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ABsk pkNELON, 







PRO CHRISTO 


THE STORY OF A ROYAL HUGUENOT 


MRS. HATTIE ARNOLD CLARK 


¥ 

“jfor flbtlst anD tbe 1R(ng *' 

(HUGUENOT SEAL) 

¥ 


“peace is beautiful, but truth is sacred.” 
Le Sauvage, Huguenot Pastor 



AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY 

lO EAST 2)D STREET, NEW YORK 


COPYRIGHT, 1898, 

BY AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY. 


2n 







RiLGtlVED* 





TO THE READER. 


It has been the aim of the author in the fol- 
lowing pages, to faithfully portray the life and 
times of the Huguenots during the reign of 
Louis XIV. Many of the persons mentioned in 
this narrative are notable figures in French his- 
tory \ e. g.y Claude Brousson, the Huguenot advo- 
cate; Fulcrand Rey, the young preacher and 
martyr ; Jean Paulet ; the Abbd F^nelon ; Mad- 
ame de Maintenon ; Louis XIV., his intendants, 
officers, and ministers in council. 

These characters, together with the histori- 
cal incidents which have been introduced, have 
been carefully studied, and the best sources of 
information have been consulted. 

The Huguenots acknowledged in Jesus the 
Christ of God, their inspiration and support. 
The apostolic zeal and constancy, patience in 
suffering, comfort in sorrow, strength in temp- 
tation, confidence in death, which they possessed 
in an eminent degree, were derived from their 
desire to emulate Jesus and to bring their lives 
to the measure of the stature of the fulness of 
Christ.” 

“ Their ears are deaf to human praise, 

Their lips to mortals mute ; 

But still their words deep echoes raise, 

Their thoughts have endless fruit.” 


GON'TEN'TS. 


CHAPTER I. 

The Betrayer n 

CHAPTER II. 

The Arrest 19 

CHAPTER III. 

Roland Harcourt 33 

CHAPTER IV. 

For Christ, or the King ? - 45 

CHAPTER V. 

A Friend in Need 59 

CHAPTER VI. 

In the Enemy’s Camp 75 

CHAPTER VII. 

The Young Physician 9^ 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Claude Brousson’s Plan 105 


6 


CONTENTS, 


CHAPTER IX. 

Retribution 115 

CHAPTER X. 

Smouldering Fires 127 

CHAPTER XI. 

Failure 139 

CHAPTER XII. 

At the Court of Louis XIV 149 

CHAPTER XIII. 

Rest after Toil 161 

CHAPTER XIV. 

The Jesuits’ Revenge 173 

CHAPTER XV. 

Learning in God’s School 191 

CHAPTER XVI. 

The Testing Time 203 

CHAPTER XVII. 

The Return of the Exile 217 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

The Trial of Faith 229 

CHAPTER XIX. 

Faithful unto Death 241 

CHAPTER XX. 

A Noble Confession 257 


CONTENTS, 


7 

CHAPTER XXI. 

The Huguenot Galley-Slave 269 

CHAPTER XXII. 

“ Love Is Stronger than Death ” 283 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

Glad Tidings 293 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

The Flight 301 

CHAPTER XXV. 

In the Land of King Janies 315 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

Oxford, Massachusetts 325 

Conclusion 333 


Ackowledgements 


335 





9 


* 

• f 


% 


( 


t 






1 


Read, sweet, how others strove till we are stouter ; 

What they renounced till we are less afraid ; 

How many times they bore the faithful witness 
Till we are helped as if a kingdom cared ! 

Read, then, of faith that shone above the fagot ; 

Clear strains of hymn the river could not drown ; 
Brave names of men and of celestial wornen 
Passed out of record into great renown.” 

DICKINSON. 









PRO CHRISTO. 

THE STORY OF A ROYAL HUGUENOT. 

CHAPTER I. 

THE BETRA YER, 

‘‘We must have evidence which will convict 
Cecil Clement. He is the most dangerous man 
in these parts. You shall receive a round sum 
if you will secure this evidence for us.” 

The speaker was the royal Intendant of Tou- 
louse, the man who had been sent, as hundreds 
of others were sent throughout every province 
of France, to suppress the Reformed religion. 
That godly Huguenot pastor, Cecil Clement, 
had acquired an immense influence over the 
C^vennese of this mountainous district. He 
must be silenced. The human tool who had 
been summoned by the “ king’s man ” to do the 
deed was Michael Arnot, a relapsed Hugue- 
not — a man with dark face and sullen mien, 
whom persecution had made desperate. The 
clink of the gold pieces in the pocket of the 
royal emissary appealed to the man’s greed. 


12 


PRO CHRISTO. 


After a whispered consultation, which was evi- 
dently satisfactory to the Intendant, Michel 
Arnot walked rapidly toward the village. 

That evening in the Huguenot temple the 
Consistory held its weekly session. The meet- 
ing was presided over by the beloved pastor, 
Cecil Clement. He was a man in the prime of 
life, of commanding presence, and with a face 
stamped with the seal of royalty — an absolute 
consecration to the teachings of the One whom 
he called Master and Lord. A single glance 
into that strong, pure face convinced one that 
here was a man who could be thoroughly trust- 
ed. Unremitting in his labors to his large and 
scattered flock, a man of scholarly attainments 
as well as deep piety, it is no wonder that he 
was idolized by the Cevennese who inhabited 
this district. To-night his face was luminous 
with joy. After the regular business had been 
transacted the pastor rose and said : 

“My brethren, we have to-night a happy 
task to perform. Our erring brother, Michel 
Arnot, is here to confess his sin and to beg to 
be restored to our membership. Stand, forth, 
Michel !” 

The man arose with a shame-faced look and 
downcast eyes. The pastor continued : 

“In an hour of great temptation Michel 
yielded to the pressure which was brought to 


THE BETRA YER. 


3 


bear upon him, and signed the recantation. He 
has bitterly repented of his sin. He prays to 
be forgiven, both by God and by his church, 
and begs that he may again join us in our wor- 
ship and our communion. Is not this your 
wish, Michel ?” 

The man bowed his head, but avoided his 
pastor’s eye. 

Shall we receive him again into our church 
membership ?” 

“ Yea ! yea !” arose from many voices. 

The pastor continued : As our Lord re- 
ceived the repentant Peter back to his fold, and 
loved him in spite of his fall, not less but more, 
so we receive you, my brother, and may our 
Lord help you to become a faithful witness for 
him in the future.” 

Something like a groan burst from the man’s 
lips as his pastor gave him the right hand of 
fellowship. 

‘‘Take courage, brother,” said Cecil Clement, 
his heart filled with pity for one who seemed so 
contrite ; “ we are all weak, erring mortals. It 
is only by keeping hold of our Elder Brother’s 
hand that we can hope to stand fast in the faith. 
We shall all remember you in our prayers.” 

The meeting was now dismissed. Several 
of the members of the Consistory came and 
shook hands with the penitent Michel ; but the 


14 


PRO CHRISTO, 


man shrank from receiving attention, and as 
soon as possible slunk away in the darkness. 

I like not the looks or the actions of this 
penitent,” muttered old Antoine, the sexton, as 
he put out the lights. ‘‘ I fear me there is some 
snare laid for our good pastor’s feet. He walks 
daily beside pitfalls and beneath impending ava- 
lanches. God grant that he may be preserved 
from harm !” 

All unconscious of the sexton’s fears Cecil 
Clement pursued his homeward way, his heart 
cheered by the events of the evening. He was 
within sight of his humble cottage when a cry 
of distress came from the darkness. 

“Help! help! good pastor!” 

Guided by the sound of groans Cecil Clem- 
ent soon discovered by the roadside, half hidden 
among the overhanging bushes, an elderly serv- 
ing-woman and a little girl, both faint from 
exhaustion and fright. 

“ Who are you, my good woman, and what is 
the trouble ?” 

Before she could reply the child opened her 
eyes and said, in a sweet musical voice, “ Do n’t 
you remember me. Monsieur Clement ?” A ray 
of light from the cottage window fell across the 
little girl’s face. 

“ Why, Isabel Paulet ! How came you here ?” 
exclaimed the astonished pastor. 


THE BETRA YER. 


15 


“ My good Emilie will tell you,” said the 
child wearily. * 

“ Monsieur Paulet has signed the recantation,” 
said the old nurse. “ The priests commanded 
him to send Mademoiselle to the convent ; but 
I remembered your kind face, good sir, and I 
have brought my lamb to you for shelter.” 

“ Is it possible that Jean Paulet has abjured 
his faith !” said Cecil Clement with deep emo- 
tion. “ What can we expect of the sheep if the 
shepherds desert their posts ? But come at once 
to my house and welcome.” 

The pastor lifted the little girl in his strong 
arms, and bade the serving-woman follow. 

The little head nestled confidingly on the 
pastor’s shoulder, and her arms were thrown 
tightly about his neck. 

“You will not let the priests take me to 
the convent, will you, dear sir?” whispered the 
child. 

“Fear not, sweet -heart. None of Christ’s 
little ones shall ever ask protection of me in 
vain.” 







‘ I WILL not fear thee, O my God ; 

The days to come can only bring 
Their perfect sequences of love, 

Thy larger, deeper, comforting. 

‘ Within the shadow of this love 

Loss doth transmute itself to gain ; 
Faith veils earth’s sorrows in its light. 
And straightway lives above her pain. 

* Thy wonderful, grand will, my God ! 

Triumphantly I make it mine ; 

And faith shall breathe her glad ‘ Amen ' 
To every dear command of Thine. 

* Oh, it is life indeed to live 

Within this kingdom strangely sweet ! 
And yet we fear to enter in. 

And linger with unwilling feet.” 


PIGOTT. 


/ 


I 


1 

•I 

4 


THE ARREST. 


19 


CHAPTER II. 

THE ARREST. 

On the porch of the small stone cottage 
which was dignified by the name of parsonage, 
Armide Clement awaited anxiously her hus- 
band’s return. The night was calm, the stars 
shone with a steady serene light. The air was 
sweet with the perfume of roses and clematis. 
But the lonely watcher heeded none of these 
things. 

“What can have kept Cecil so late,” she 
murmured, as she peered anxiously into the 
darkness. “ Oh, my God, protect him from all 
evil ! Guide his steps, that he may escape from 
the snares which are daily spread for his feet.” 

The wife of this Huguenot pastor was in 
every way a worthy helpmeets The hardships 
of her lot had robbed her cheek of its youthful 
bloom and her figure of its roundness, but noth- 
ing could deprive her of that sweet charm of 
womanhood — a contented mind. Wordsworth 
might here have found his ideal of 

“ A perfect woman, nobly planned, 

To warn, to comfort, and command ; 

And yet a spirit still, and bright. 

With something of angelic light.” 


20 


PRO CHRISTO. 


Armide Clement was the daughter of a 
wealthy and influential nobleman, but she was 
banished from her father’s house when she in- 
sisted on linking her life to that of the obscure 
Huguenot preacher. But not for one moment 
had she regretted “choosing to suffer affliction 
with the people of God,” for she esteemed “ the 
reproach of Christ greater riches than the treas- 
ures of Egypt.” 

“ Home at last !” she exclaimed, in tones of 
relief, as the familiar footsteps sounded on the 
gravelled walk. 

“ Yes, my love !” answered the pastor, as he 
stooped and tenderly kissed her cheek. “ I am 
later than usual. I have brought you some of 
the Master’s little ones,” answering her look of 
inquiry. “ My life-long friend and comrade in 
the ministry, Jean Paulet, has signed the recan- 
tation, and this is his little daughter Isabel, to- 
gether with her good nurse Emilie. She has 
brought her young mistress all the way from 
Nismes to prevent the priests from sending her 
precious charge to the convent. Can we shelter 
them, my wife ?” 

“Most assuredly!” was the hearty response. 
“ Poor lamb,” she added, as she bent over the 
child who had fallen asleep in the pastor’s arms, 
“ you are far too young to be deserted by your 
natural protectors. Let us get the little one to 


THE ARREST. 


21 


bed at once, my good woman, and then we will 
see about some refreshment for you.” 

“The Lord will reward you, madame, for 
your kindness,” said the old nurse as she fol- 
lowed her guide into an inner room. 

“You look very happy, to-night,” said the 
pastor’s wife, as she reentered the sitting-room 
bearing a cup of tea for her husband. 

“ And why should I not,” exclaimed the pas- 
tor, “when the prodigal has returned to his 
Father’s house?” He then related the story of 
Michel Arnot, the penitent. 

Armide Clement’s hand shook until part of 
the tea was spilled on the floor. 

“What is the matter, my love?” inquired 
Monsieur Clement, noticing her agitation. 

“ Our good friend. Marquis Harcourt, and his 
son Roland have been here this evening to tell 
us the latest news concerning the edicts.” 

“ Are they harsher than usual ?'’ inquired the 
pastor. 

“Yes.” Taking a slip of paper from the 
table, the pastor’s wife read as follows : 

“Any Protestant minister receiving again 
into his church one who has abjured the re- 
formed religion, openly defies the king’s com- 
mand and is liable to suffer heavy penalties.” 

“ Did the marquis say what the penalties 
were for this offence?” 


22 


PRO CHRISTO. 


Imprisonment for life at the galleys, and 
the permanent closing of the church wherein 
the offence was committed,” said Armide Clem- 
ent in a faltering voice. 

A look of pain crossed the pastor’s face for 
an instant. Then his face assumed its wonted 
calm expression. “Armide,” he said tenderly, 
“ let us not forget our motto : ‘ For Christ and 
the king.’ The commands of Louis XIV. must 
be of secondary importance when they conflict 
with Christ’s commands. And what does the 
Word of God say to those of us who have charge 
of souls ? When the penitent sinner comes to 
us and is desirous of entering upon a new life, 
we are commanded to ‘ restore such an one in 
the spirit of meekness.’ Had I known of this 
edict, could I have conscientiously acted other- 
wise ?” 

After a moment’s hesitation the Huguenot 
mother answered in steady tones, although her 
dark eyes glistened with tears : “No, my hus- 
band !” 

A look of joy flashed across the pastor’s face. 
“ Spoken like my brave wife,” he said, pressing 
her hand. “And were there any more edicts?” 

“Plenty of them. Funerals can only take 
place at dawn or dusk, and not more than ten 
friends can attend. Weddings must not occur 
in Advent or Lent. Pastoral visitation is re- 


THE ARREST. 


23 


stricted to the town or village where the pastor 
resides, and the singing of our hymns in public 
is forbidden.” 

“These commands are certainly irksome,” 
said the pastor cheerfully, “ but since there is 
no question of conscience involved they must 
be obeyed. Cheer up, my love. He who watches 
over Israel slumbers not nor sleeps. Let us not 
fear what men may do unto us. Christ will 
hold us in the hollow of his hand. Are the chil- 
dren awake, Armide ? I would like a word with 
them before I sleep.” 

“ Paul is looking over his lessons in the 
kitchen, and the girls are with him.” 

Monsieur Clement crossed a narrow hallway 
and noiselessly opened the door. He listened a 
few moments to an eager discussion. 

“As true as you live, cousin Paul, I never 
would kiss the sacred relics or sing Ave Maria, 
or even say how good a thing the mass is ! No, 
indeed, I would not, even if those cruel priests 
tortured me to death,” and the bright face of 
Beatrice Romaine glowed with enthusiasm. 

“ Nay, nay sweet cousin ! I pray you not to 
speak so positively. You cannot tell what you 
would do until you are tried. Do you not re- 
member hearing my father say that in those 
dark days of persecution hundreds denied the 
faith rather than suffer death ?” 


24 


PRO CHRISTO. 


But I would never deny the faith,” said 
Beatrice stoutly. 

“That is what Henry the Fourth thought,” 
continued Paul. “ But when the choice came 
between the crown of France and abjuring his 
religion, he chose to become a catholic, saying, 
‘ A crown is surely worth a mass.’ ” 

“ How tiresome you are, Paul Clement,” 
pouted Beatrice. “You always make it a point 
to disagree with everything I say.” 

“I do not think Paul meant to hurt your 
feelings,” said the gentle voice of Constance 
Clement. “We all know you are brave and 
true, and with Christ’s help you could withstand 
temptation.” 

“Come hither to me, Beatrice!” The chil- 
dren started at the sound of this voice, and spied 
Monsieur Clement standing in the doorway. 
With a glad cry Beatrice sprang into her uncle’s 
arms. 

“ What is the occasion of this heated discus- 
sion, my son ?” 

“ Beatrice, replied the lad,” was condemning 
those who recanted, and she was so confident 
that she should never deny the faith, that I bade 
her be less positive in the matter.” 

“ Let me tell you, children, the sad news 
which I heard to-night. You all remember my 
taking you a year ago to spend the day with 


THE ATTEST. 


25 


Monsieur Paulet. This same Jean Paulet, min- 
ister of the gospel, has signed the recantation, 
and at this moment, beneath our roof, sleeps 
little Isabel Paulet, rescued from the convent 
by her good nurse Emilie. So you see, my chil- 
dren, that he that thinketh he standeth must 
take heed lest he fall.” 

“ Father,” said Constance, lifting her sweet 
face to his, “ do you think those terrible days of 
persecution will come again ?” 

‘‘ I trust not, sweetheart. The royal message 
declares from time to time that the rights given 
us by Henry the Fourth in his great edict of 
Nantes are perpetual and irrevocable. Yet, I 
am free to confess that my heart misgives me, 
when I see such flagrant violations of this edict. 
I sometimes fear that my home may not long 
be a safe retreat for my loved ones. And this 
reminds me of another matter. How old are 
you, Beatrice?” 

“ Thirteen, last summer,” said the little maid 
with a proud toss of the head. 

Full young to send out into the gay and 
wicked world,” said her uncle. “ But your father 
will have it so. To-morrow he bids you set out 
for Nismes, under the care of a trusty escort. 
Your Aunt Narcisse desires you to spend some 
time with her in La Rochelle.” 

Oh, how nice,” cried Beatrice, clapping her 


26 


PRO CHRISTO. 


hands. “ I like my Aunt Narcisse, she is so 
pretty and so cheerful. But I shall miss you 
all so much. I will never forget what you and 
Aunt Armide have told me, Uncle Cecil.” 

My little niece, the testing-time may come 
to you sooner than we think. Forget not in the 
midst of temptation, that you are bought with 
a price, even with the precious blood of Christ. 
Now go with your mother, girls, and seek repose. 
I want a word with Paul alone.” 

The boy arose and placed one hand on his 
father’s shoulder. A look of perfect understand- 
ing passed between the two. Paul Clement was 
sixteen years of age, but he looked much older, 
being of rather more than the average height. 
His muscular frame and breadth of chest testi- 
fied to the healthfulness of the mountain climate. 
The shape of his head and his broad forehead 
indicated an intellect of more than ordinary 
strength. His countenance wore a thoughtful 
expression. Life in that Huguenot parsonage 
had not been all pastime. 

“ My son,” said Monsieur Clement, “ Claude 
Brousson tells me that the king forbids any Hu- 
guenot from entering upon the study of medicine. 
You have set your heart upon becoming a physi- 
cian. You know as well as I what terrible penal- 
ties are attached to any disobedience of the edicts. 
In view of these facts what is your decision ?” 


THE ARREST. 


27 


The youth drew himself to his full height as 
he answered with flashing eyes," “‘No man 
having put his hand to the plough and looking 
back is fit for the kingdom of God.’ Because 
there are lions in the path shall I retreat ? 
Never !’’ 

“ Spoken like my own brave son," said the 
pastor, folding his boy to his heart. “ I did but 
seek to test you. God has already opened the 
way for you to pursue your studies at Montau- 
ban. Our good friend, M. Brousson, is intimately 
acquainted with a distinguished Huguenot phy- 
sician in that city. He says he will give you a 
letter of introduction to his friend, and he has 
no doubt but that he will help you in your 
chosen profession. If anything should happen 
to me, my son, see that you take up the work 
which I lay down. You can preach the gospel 
effectively while healing wounded bodies. You 
must be son, brother, father, pastor, and with a 
thoughtfulness beyond your years care for the 
mother and the little sister. Above all take up 
the banner of the cross and defend it to your 
latest breath ?" 

“ Father, I promise, God helping me, to be 
a faithful witness for him," answered Paul. 

“Amen," replied the pastor, as they separated 
for the night. 

The dawn was creeping over the hills when 


28 


PRO CHRISTO. 


a band of soldiers came up the mountain path 
to the parsonage, and knocked loudly on the 
door. After a few moments delay the door 
opened and Cecil Clement stood before them. 

'‘What seek ye, my friends?” he inquired 
calmly. 

The leader of the party was taken aback, 
but he very quickly recovered himself, and an- 
swered roughly, 

“ I am seeking for that heretic, Cecil Clem- 
ent, who has defied the king’s command. Come 
here, Arnot, and identify this man. Is this the 
cursed Huguenot who tried to force you into 
his own communion after you had returned to 
the bosom of the only true church? Speak,” 
he shouted, pricking Michel with his bayonet. 

“ Yes,” the man answered hoarsely. The 
pastor gave one reproachful look at the pro- 
fessed penitent. It was such a look as our Lord 
might have bestowed upon the one who betrayed 
him with a kiss. 

“ I am very sorry for you, Michel.” With a 
shriek and a bound the man broke away from the 
soldiers and ran like a wild creature into the woods. 

“ Let him go,” said the leader of the band 
with an oath. “He has served us one good 
turn.” Turning to Monsieur Clement he said, 
“ I arrest you in the king’s name. Mount this 
horse. You go with us at once.” 


THE ATTEST. 


29 


“ Will you kindly allow me one moment in 
which to bid my family adieu?” inquired the 
pastor. 

“ Not one second, accursed heretic,” said the 
soldier brutally. “We must be out of this valley 
before the sun rises. “ Mount this horse !” 

“ The Lord’s will be done,” murmured the 
pastor as he proceeded to obey. 

“ Stop your preaching,” cried the brutal 
soldier, striking him across the mouth. The 
prisoner was then securely bound with ropes, 
and the party hastened to leave the spot. 

“ God gives patience, love learns strength, 

And faith remembers promises.” 



4 ^ 


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These days are dangerous ; 

Virtue is choked by foul ambition 

And charity chased hence by rancor’s hand. 
Foul subornation is predominant, 

And equity exiled your Highness' land.” 

SHAKESPEARE. 

“ He, at the news 

Heart-struck with chilling gripe of sorrow stood. 
That all his senses bound.” 


MILTON. 



ROLAND HARCOURT, 


33 


CHAPTER III. 

ROLAND NARCO DR T. 

It was a beautiful morning. The sun was 
just rising above the horizon. The mist which 
had concealed the valley rose and fell, and final- 
ly was swept away before the advancing sun- 
beams. Below lay the town of Castres. The 
river Tarn crept slowly in and out, making the 
plains appear like a sea of verdure. Yonder 
was the old castle of Beauclaire, the stone struc- 
ture flanked with four massive round towers. 
A little to the left rose the lofty spires of the 
great cathedral, each spire containing its stork’s 
nest. On the sunny slopes of the C^vennes 
were olive gardens, vineyards, and mulberry- 
groves. In the distance the highest peak of 
this mountain chain, Mont Mezenc, reared its 
noble head, its summits capped with snow. On 
the mountain-sides were forests of giant firs, 
and the evergreen oak of Navarre. The air 
was sweet with the perfume of the cistus, that 
beautiful rock rose of southern France. 

In Castle Beauclaire, Marquis Harcourt sat 
in the marble-paved hall. Breakfast was served, 
but he heeded it not. From time to time he 
examined a pile of documents which a servant 
3 


34 


PRO CHRISTO. 


had placed beside his plate. The door opened, 
and his son Roland appeared, 

“A youth to whom was given 
So much of earth, so much of heaven, 

And such impetuous blood.” 

A cloud rested on the young man’s countenance 
as he glanced at the beautiful prospect through 
the open window. 

‘'A rare morning,” he exclaimed as he seated 
himself at the table. 

“Yes, my son, too fine a morning for you to 
wear such a downcast face,” replied Monsieur le 
Marquis. 

“You know, father, what is eating my heart 
out with bitterness. I long for the stirring life 
of a soldier. The king takes his own time for 
answering your humble petition in my behalf, 
which you sent more than six months ago. It 
galls me that no attention has been shown one 
who spared neither blood nor money to serve 
his majesty in the late wars. He seems not to 
trust the loyalty of such a Huguenot gentleman 
as you, father.” 

“You are aware of the reason for this delay, 
as well as I, Roland. The king has no favors 
to bestow on those who adhere to the despised 
religion. But your patience and mine are to be 
rewarded at last,” handing a document to his 
son as he spoke. 


ROLAND NARCO DR T. 


35 


“ Vive le roi !” cried Roland, the color leap- 
ing to his cheek. “ This is my commission to 
join the king’s troops on the Spanish frontier. 
I will retract all I said about his majesty’s lack 
of courtesy. Probably there was some good 
reason for the delay.” 

“ I am sorry that you are not going to fight 
under my grand old general, Henri Turenne,” 
said M. Harcourt. “ Such masterly military 
genius I never saw as was displayed in his con- 
quests during the Italian campaigns, and the 
civil wars of the Fronde. Gen. Turenne was 
not only a true patriot but a Christian gentle- 
man. Rarely has a commander been so revered 
by his soldiers as was Viscount de Turenne. He 
was beloved not solely on account of his vic- 
tories, but because of his unfailing kindness and 
generosity to his men. If he achieved a suc- 
cess he always worded his dispatches, ‘We 
succeeded !’ thus sharing the credit with his 
subordinates ; but if he was defeated he simply 
wrote, ‘ I lost !’ taking upon himself all the 
blame. Well do I remember when we were 
sent to make war upon the Elector Frederick 
William. It was midwinter, and the march was 
trying in the extreme. Some of the younger 
soldiers complained, but the elder ones an- 
swered, ‘ Depend upon it, Turenne is more con- 
cerned than we are. At this moment he is 


36 


PRO CHRISTO. 


thinking how to deliver us. He watches for us 
while we sleep. He is our father. It is plain 
that you are but young.’ Still, my son, you are 
to be congratulated on going to fight those 
treacherous Spanish hounds instead of having 
to butcher your fellow-countrymen.” 

“ King Louis shall never regret having re- 
posed confidence in me,” replied Roland. 

The marquis looked at the glowing face of 
the young man and sighed. 

“What is troubling you, father?” said Ro- 
land with solicitude. “ You seem quite down- 
hearted this morning.” 

“ I slept very poorly last night,” was the re- 
ply. “ Presentments of troublous times for our 
beloved church weighed heavily on this old 
heart. Then I have grave anxieties for you, 
my son. I shall know no peace until you are 
anchored to the Rock of Ages. You think far 
more of subduing the enemies of King Louis 
than you do of fighting the good fight of faith.” 

Roland’s cheeks flushed. “ I think you mis- 
judge me,” he answered hotly. “ I am a Hu- 
guenot just as much as you are, and I shall al- 
ways show my colors. Do not fear that I shall 
prove disloyal to the reformed church.” 

“My son, said the marquis affectionately, 
“ bear with me if I speak plainly. You are a 
Huguenot because your father and your imme- 


/POLAND HARCOURT. 


37 


diate friends are Huguenots. But are you a 
Huguenot for Christ’s sake ?’ ’ 

At this searching question the young man 
cast down his eyes and remained silent. 

Monsieur sighed as he took another docu- 
ment in his hand. Then his countenance lighted 
up as he said, “This is good news, my son. 
Monsieur Jean Claude of Charenton is about to 
prepare a memorial to present to the king, pray- 
ing that the rights given us in our great charter 
shall no longer be violated. Such a scholarly 
production as he is capable of producing ought 
to have some weight at court. What is the mat- 
ter, Bruno?” 

A large St. Bernard dog had arisen, and pla- 
cing his nose on his master’s knee, began to 
whine piteously. 

“ Bruno hears something which troubles 
him,” said Roland. “What is it, old fellow?” 
he added, as the dog lifted up his intelligent 
eyes to the young man’s face. 

“ Hark !” said Monsieur Harcourt. 

A hoarse murmur, now rising, now falling, 
came sweeping up from the valley. At this mo- 
ment the old servant Albert hastily entered the 
room. 

“ What is the meaning of the noise I hear ?” 
asked Monsieur. “ Is there any trouble in the 
village ?” 


38 


PRO CHRISTO. 


Yes, Monsieur le Marquis. Old Antoine 
brought us the news. He is waiting below to 
speak with you.” 

“ Show him in here at once !” 

The sexton appeared presently, with a white, 
scared face, his body trembling with excitement. 

What is the meaning of yonder tumult ?” 
said Monsieur, rising from his chair and ap- 
proaching the old man. 

“ The pastor !” gasped Antoine. 

“ What of him ? Speak, man !” cried Roland 
impatiently. 

He has been arrested by the king’s sol- 
diers.” 

Arrested ?” cried Monsieur. On what charge 
could they arrest Cecil Clement ?” 

“ For disobeying the king’s orders in receiving 
a relapsed Huguenot back into the church,” re. 
plied Antoine. 

“ How did you learn of the arrest ?” inquired 
Roland. 

“ I was at the church very early this morning, 
and was on my way home to breakfast when I 
saw the gen’ d’armes ride up to the parsonage. 
I hid behind a fir-tree, and heard all that passed. 
Michel Arnot betrayed our good pastor. I mis- 
trusted the man when he professed to be a peni- 
tent, but M. Clement thought his repentance was 
genuine. Alas ! we shall see our faithful shep- 


ROLAND HARCOURT. 


39 


herd no more,” and the tears rolled down the 
old sexton’s cheeks. 

“Where are they taking M. le Pasteur?” 
inquired Roland as he paced the floor in great 
excitement. 

“ To the citadel at Toulouse. He was ar- 
rested at the command of the Intendant.” 

“ Apprehended by the king’s order ! God 
have mercy on this poor church,” said Monsieur, 
sinking into his chair and covering his face with 
his hands. 

“ I spread the news of the arrest as I came 
through the valley,” continued Antoine, “ and 
the people are waiting to rescue their beloved 
pastor as the soldiers pass through the narrow 
defile, about two miles from here.” 

“ Father, let me go and lead this band,” cried 
Roland excitedly. “The pastor is under your 
protection. Shall you suffer him to be humil- 
iated by those brutal gens d’armes ?” 

“ Command yourself, sir !” said Monsieur sterm 
ly. “ Have you so soon forgotten the contents 
of the paper you hold in your hands? Cecil 
Clement is arrested by the king’s orders. He is 
being led away by the king’s soldiers. You 
are commissioned to serve under this king. 
The first requisite of a soldier is unquestioning 
obedience. The presence of a mob will greatly 
injure the pastor’s chances of release. Sub- 


40 


PRO CHRISTO. 


mission to the inevitable is by far the wisest 
course.” 

The door opened once more and Paul Clement 
came in, breathless from his long run. 

“ Monsieur, mother has sent me to beg you to 
go at once to the village, and quell the tumult. 
She is certain that it will be worse than useless 
to attempt a rescue.” 

Your mother is right. We will go at once, 
my boy.” 

Albert had already saddled the horses in an- 
ticipation of their being needed, and the Marquis 
and his son rode rapidly away. 

“ I fear we are too late,” said M. Harcourt as 
angry shouts and cries fell on his ear, mingled 
with the sound of discharged muskets. “ Fools ! 
do they not know that they are signing M. Clem- 
ent’s death warrant by their rash interference ?” 

Their worse fears were confirmed when a 
little later several men from the hamlet came 
running towards them. 

“The soldiers have driven us off and have 
taken the pastor to the fortress,” cried one of the 
number. 

“ How dared you take this step without in- 
structions from me ?” said the Marquis sternly. 

The men looked abashed, and one of them 
answered sullenly, “We could not stand with 
folded hands and see our poor pastor dragged to 


/POLAND HARCOURT. 


41 


his dungeon. He was so good to us when my 
wife was sick!” and the poor fellow brushed 
away a tear. 

“ You meant well, I have no doubt,” replied 
the Marquis in softened tones. “ But you know 
that prudence is often the better part of valor. I 
fear that your efforts will only result in harm. 
Come, Roland, we can do no more at this time 
for M. Clement. Let us go to his suffering wife 
and offer her our protection.” 



“ He that endures for what his conscience knows 
Not to be ill, doth from a patience high 
Look only on the cause whereto he owes 
Those sufferings — not on his miseries. 

The more he endures the more his glory grows, 
Which never grows from imbecility. 

Only the best composed and worthiest hearts 
God sets to act the hardest, constant parts.” 

S. SAMUEL. 

Since sorrow brought him nearer to his Master, 
Since tears have washed his eyes till upper air 
They pierce where to and fro far spirits fare ; 

He asks not that the flame shall burn less fiercely. 
But only strength to bear.'’ 

HARRIET PRESCOTT SPOFFORD. 



\ 


FOR CHRIST, OR THE KING? 


45 


CHAPTER IV. 

FOR CHRIST, OR THE KING? 

“The Intendant receives no visitors to-day, 
Monsieur.” 

“ I seek him upon a matter which brooks no 
delay. I tell you I must have audience with 
him.” ' 

“ I am sorry, Monsieur, but I have received 
particular instructions not to admit any one.” 

“You can at least take this card to him, and 
say that this is the last time I shall ask any 
favors of Monsieur St. Marc.” 

The servant glanced furtively at the card 
which he received, anxious to learn the name of 
one who demanded admission with so much au- 
thority. 

FRAN901S Romaine, Banker, 

Nismes. 

The servant bowed obsequiously, and said he 
thought possibly his master might make an ex- 
ception in his favor. In a moment he returned 
saying, the Intendant would see Monsieur for a 
short interview. The banker followed the ser- 
vant into a large, handsomely furnished room, in 
which the royal Intendant sat by a table, busily 
engaged in writing. By his side was a priest. 


46 


PRO CHRISTO. 


dressed in the garments of his order. On his 
face lay a cold, passionless calm. His eyes were 
sharp and penetrating, for he was educated to 
look through and read the innermost depths 
of everything and everybody who came in his 
way. 

“ I seek a private interview. Monsieur St. 
Marc,” said the banker, casting a suspicious 
glance at the dark-robed emissary of the church. 

“ I have no secrets from Father Ignatius,” 
said the Intendant coldly. “ Proceed at once to 
business, please. I am driven with work to- 
day.” 

“ I desire some reliable information concern- 
ing Cecil Clement, who was arrested three 
months ago. His friends learned that he was 
incarcerated in the fortress, awaiting his trial. 
Beyond this we can learn nothing. Can you 
tell me what has become of him ?” 

“Cecil Clement was brought to trial last 
week,” replied the intendant. 

“ On what charge or charges was he appre- 
hended?” 

“For violation of the king’s edict, and for 
preaching seditious doctrines. He has had a 
great deal to say to the people about their obey- 
ing God rather than the king. He was consid- 
ered by his judges to be a dangerous man, and 
one capable of inciting an insurrection.” 


FOR CHRIST, OR THE KING? 


47 


What was his sentence ?” inquired the 
banker with a look of anxiety. 

To the galleys for life.” 

“ Impossible, Monsieur !” cried the banker, 
walking the floor in his excitement. “ Cecil 
Clement, a gentleman of birth and breeding, 
condemned to a punishment reserved for the 
most abandoned criminals! It cannot be that 
the court intends to administer such an act of 
injustice — nay, rather of barbarity.” 

The perspiration stood out on the banker’s 
forehead in great beads as he thought of Ar- 
mide Clement and her children. What an awful 
termination of the tragedy begun three months 
ago! 

The priest’s eyes gleamed at this outburst, 
and a crafty look crossed his countenance. 

“ You use rather questionable language, Mon- 
sieur Romaine,” said the Intendant. However, 
I will overlook it under the circumstances. I 
believe you are Monsieur Clement’s brother-in- 
law.” 

My half-sister is the wife of Cecil Clem- 
ent,” answered the banker. “ Is there no way 
of escape from this terrible sentence, no possi- 
bility that it may be commuted ?” 

Certainly!” said the Intendant. ‘‘ Monsieur 
Clement has only to sign the recantation, and 
his liberty is assured.” 


48 


PRO CHRISTO, 


“ Cecil Clement will never do that.” 

“ You are right, Monsieur Romaine,” said 
the priest, speaking for the first time since the 
banker’s entrance. “ When he was confined in 
the citadel I was appointed his spiritual ad- 
viser, and for three months I have labored for 
his conversion, using argument, persuasion, 
and threat, all to no purpose. His is the most 
stubborn case that has come under my notice. 
There is still one more course open to him, if 
he desires his liberty. If he will confess that 
he erred in teaching seditious doctrine, and will 
agree to avoid heresy in the future, I doubt not 
but what the king will exercise his clemency.” 

“ Surely the pastor ought to be willing to do 
this,” said the banker, clutching at the last 
straw of hope. If he will not sign the recanta- 
tion for the sake of his family, he ought to make 
some concessions.” 

A look of scorn flashed across the priest’s 
face for an instant, leaving it as impassive as 
before. 

“ I wish I could talk with him,” continued 
the banker. “ I think I might bring him into a 
more reasonable frame of mind. Will you give 
me a permit to visit him in the prison. Monsieur 
St. Marc?” 

The Intendant hesitated. It would never do 
to thwart the rich banker. His loans were 


FOR CHRIST, OR THE KING? 


49 


needed to swell the depleted treasuries of the 
State. It were better to yield the point than to 
send him away in anger. Moreover, it was for 
the interest of the king that Cecil Clement 
should become a penitent. 

“ It is not customary for such stubborn pris- 
oners to receive visits from any one outside of 
the spiritual adviser and the prison officials. But 
you are so loyal a subject, Monsieur Romaine, 
that I think I shall be justified in giving you 
permission. You will have to see him at once, 
however, for to-morrow at this time he will have 
begun his journey to the coast.” 

“Thanks, Monsieur St. Marc. Just outside 
this building, my friend. Monsieur Claude Brous- 
son, waits. He is . a lawyer, in whose sagacity 
pastor Clement places much confidence. Allow 
him to accompany me. I feel sure that between 
us Pastor Clement will yield.” 

“ Well, so be it,” replied the Intendant with 
some impatience, as he hurriedly prepared the 
necessary document for the governor of the 
citadel. “Father Ignatius will be your escort. 
You will have to excuse me now, as I cannot 
possibly spare another moment.” 

The face of Father Ignatius darkened when 
he saw Monsieur Claude Brousson. The latter 
was an ardent and intrepid lawyer, who had 
espoused the cause of the Huguenots, and who 
4 


50 


PRO CHRISTO. 


had acquired considerable renown for his bril- 
liant utterances at the bar. 

Another dangerous man,” muttered the 
priest under his breath. 

It was but a short walk from the office of 
the Intendant to the prison. The permit which 
Monsieur Romaine had secured, together with 
the presence of the cur^ of the fortress, were 
enough to open those gloomy doors. The priest 
escorted them into an ante-room and bade them 
be seated. “ I go to prepare the prisoner for 
your visit.” 

The minutes passed slowly. A half hour 
went by and still no Father Ignatius ; an hour — 
and still he failed to appear. The banker fidget- 
ed in his chair. Monsieur Brousson rose and 
tried the door. It was locked. 

“ I believe that rascally Jesuit has led us into 
a trap,” he exclaimed in angry tones. 

The sound of footsteps was heard outside in 
the corridor. The key was turned noiselessly 
in the lock, and Father Ignatius appeared. His 
face was deathly white, and his eyes glowed as 
though some hidden fires were devouring his 
soul. 

Monsieur Clement is ready to receive his 
guests,” he said with cutting irony. “Follow 
me to his apartment.” 

Preceded by the jailer, the party was escorted 


FOR CHRIST, OR THE KING? 51 

through dark, winding passages, down several 
flights of stairs, through another long corridor, 
and down a short flight of stone steps, at the 
foot of which the jailor, paused and unlocked 
a narrow door. It creaked dismally on its rusty 
hinges as it slowly swung open. A rushing, 
scampering sound was heard. 

“ Rats !” said the jailer. Do n’t be afraid, 
gentlemen,” he added with a coarse laugh. 
“ They wont attack you if you let them alone.” 
After lighting a candle and placing it on a 
stone bench, he retreated, followed by the 
priest. “ I shall come for you in precisely one 
hour,” he said, closing the door of the dungeon 
and locking it. The air of the cell was reeking 
with foul odors, and the dampness struck a chill 
to the marrow. With a shudder the two men 
gazed about them. On a coarse pallet of straw, 
with a stone for his pillow, was stretched the 
form of a man. The iron fetters clattered dis- 
mally as the flgure rose to a sitting posture. 
Could that pale, emaciated body belong to Cecil 
Clement !” 

“ My poor brother, how cruelly they have 
treated you,” cried the banker as he fell upon 
the pastor’s neck and burst into tears. The 
pastor winced under the embrace. The exqui- 
site torture of the rack had loosened every joint, 
and his nerves quivered with physical suffering. 


52 


PRO CHRISTO. 


“ This is indeed kind of you, Frangois, and 
you too, Monsieur Brousson. I had no reason to 
expect such a favor from the Intendant. I have 
indeed suffered, but, thank God, they have done 
their worst, and Christ has enabled me to with- 
stand their tempting wiles.” 

The banker was speechless before the saintly 
joy which irradiated Cecil Clement’s face. How 
could he ask such a man to make belittling con- 
cessions in order to secure his liberty ! 

An awkward silence ensued. 

“ My wife and children, what of them ?” in- 
quired the pastor eagerly. 

“ They are safe and well, and are at Castle 
Beauclaire. The Marquis has sheltered them 
since your arrest. Isabel Paulet and her nurse 
are with them at the castle. Armide insisted 
on having the child accompany her. She said 
you had entrusted the little one to her keeping, 
and she means to remain faithful to the trust. 
Monsieur Harcourt was only too glad to give 
them succor.” 

“ My noble friend,” murmured the pastor. 
“ May God richly reward him!” 

“ Do you know your sentence ?” asked Claude 
Brousson. 

“Yes. Father Ignatius spent a long time 
with me picturing the horrors of my fate and 
offering me two ways of escape.” 


FOR CHRIST, OR THE KING? 


53 


“ Will you not consider one of them ?” cried 
the banker. “Will you not crave the king’s 
pardon for offending him ?” 

The pastor shivered as though a frosty blast 
had struck him. “And have you come to tempt 
me, my friends?” he asked, a slight coldness 
creeping into his tones. 

“It is for the sake of your wife and children 
that we come,” replied the banker. “ Have you 
no consideration for them ?” 

It was a cruel stab, and the drops of anguish 
stood out on the pastor’s forehead. For a mo- 
ment he could not speak. 

“ I forgive you for your harsh words, Fran- 
gois, because I know your kind heart, and I 
know that you would do anything to relieve my 
sufferings. Do I not think of my wife and chil- 
dren ? My whole thought has been for them. 
I care not what my persecutors do to this poor 
body, if only my loved ones are safe. I have 
done nothing for which I ought to crave the 
king’s pardon. My only regret is that I did not 
speak oftener and more earnestly while I had 
the opportunity. Did Armide send you to me ?” 

“ No,” answered the banker reluctantly. 

“ My wife would wish me to abide by my 
conscience, no matter how much she might suf- 
fer. You have never sounded the depths of 
that noble heart.” 


54 


PRO CHRISTO. 


“ The fact is, Pastor Clement,” said Monsieur 
Brousson,” we cannot spare you. Your removal 
at this time will be a severe blow to our church. 
For the sake of the cause cannot you lay aside 
some of your scruples? This is no time for 
splitting hairs.” 

Do you wish me to do evil that good may 
come? Oh, my friends, cease tempting me. 
There is naught that I hold more precious 
than the love of Christ, my Lord. My wife, 
my children, my church are dear, but his love 
is dearer.” 

I wish I could feel as you do,” said the 
banker; “but I confess I am afraid of these 
Jesuits. I try to so shape my course as not to 
offend them, and it is ticklish business some- 
times.” 

“You are trying to serve two masters, bro- 
ther Fran9ois, and no wonder you find it hard.” 

“Our time is nearly spent,” said Claude 
Brousson. “ Can we do anything for you, my 
pastor ?” 

“ If I could only see Armide once more !” 
The great love of the pastor’s soul shone in 
those pleading eyes. 

“She accompanied us to this city, brother, 
in the hope of seeing you. We will beg on our 
knees for this favor if that will move the hard 
hearts of your judges. You may set your heart 


FOR CHRIST, OR THE KING? 


55 


at rest on one thing’, brother, your wife and 
your children shall be provided for so long as I 
have a louis d'or. I will care for them as though 
they were my own.” 

“ God bless you, my beloved brother,” said 
the pastor, pressing his hands warmly. “ You 
have a noble, generous heart. Always heed its 
inpulses.” 

Claude Brousson came and knelt before Cecil 
Clement. “ My pastor, you have taught me a 
lesson which I shall never forget. Forgive me 
that I sought to tempt you, and grant me your 
blessing.” 

The pastor laid his hand on the bowed head : 

“ Lord, to whom shall we go if not unto thee ? 
Let others follow the devices of their imagina- 
tions, or prostrate themselves before traditional 
superstitions, or kiss the feet of sinful man. Oh, 
King of glory, we desire but thee alone ! And 
now, my friend and my brother, may the Lord 
bless thee and keep thee. The Lord make his 
face shine upon thee and be gracious unto thee. 
The Lord lift up his countenance upon thee and 
give thee peace.” 


Pain’s furnace-heat within me quivers ; 

God’s breath upon the flame doth blow ; 
And all my heart in anguish shivers 
And trembles at the fiery glow : 

And yet I whisper, ‘ As God will 1’ 
And in his hottest fire stand still. 

Why should I murmur ? for the sorrow 
Thus only longer-lived would be ; 

Its end may come — and will to-morrow, 
When God has done his work in me : 

So I say trusting : ‘As God will 1’ 
And trusting to the end, hold still. 

He kindles for my profit purely. 

Affliction’s glowing, fiery brand ; 

And all his heaviest blows are surely 
Inflicted by a Father’s hand ; 

So I say praising : • As God will I’ 
And hope in him, and suffer still.” 




A FRIEND IN NEED. 


59 


CHAPTER V. 

A FRIEND IN NEED. 

Time ’s up, gentleman,” said the jailer as 
he swung open the heavy iron door. The two 
men passed out and retraced their steps. At the 
door of the ante-room they were met by Father 
Ignatius. A triumphant look crossed his face as 
he noted their dejected appearance. 

“ Your mission has been unsuccessful, mes- 
sieurs,” he remarked with a sneer. I hope you 
are now satisfied that I spoke the truth, when I 
said that nothing would move that fanatic. He 
is firmly resolved to immolate himself. Every- 
thing had been tried to make him see his error, 
before you came. Yes, everything !” 

I should say so,” cried the banker, his pas- 
sion getting the better of his prudence. “ All 
the infernal arts of the Inquisition have been 
employed to compass the ruin of the noblest 
man that ever walked God’s earth.” 

Monsieur Brousson pressed his companion’s 
arm warningly. 

Again a dangerous gleam appeared in the 
monk’s eyes, but he preserved a discreet silence. 

“We desire to speak with the governor of 
the citadel before we go,” said the lawyer. 


6o 


PRO CHRISTO. 


‘‘ He is away on business, and will not return 
until evening, Monsieur. You can leave your 
message with me, and I will see that he gets 
it on his return.” 

“ I fear that will be too late to serve our pur- 
pose, father.” 

“We want to gain permission for the wife of 
Cecil Clement to visit him this evening,” said 
the banker imprudently. 

“ I can give you your answer as well as the 
governor,” replied the monk. “ The prisoner’s 
wife will be refused admittance. I myself shall 
advise the governor to do nothing which will 
mitigate the severity of Cecil Clement's sen- 
tence. He has made his bed — let him feel the 
hardness thereof. He has already received more 
favors than he deserves. Here, porter! show 
these gentlemen out !” and with a haughty in- 
clination of the head the priest entered the ante- 
room and closed the door. 

“ Those men will both bear watching,” he 
muttered, as walking to a window he noted the 
retreating figures of the banker and his friend. 
“ That Huguenot advocate has the stuff in him 
of which martyrs are made, and the other will 
be a turn-coat if any pressure is brought to bear 
upon him. I must see to it that their steps are 
shadowed.” The look on the priest’s face bodes 
ill for the friends of Cecil Clement. 


A FRIEND IN NEED, 


6i 


The banker drew a long sigh of relief as he 
once more breathed the pure air of heaven. 

“ I never realized before how essential fresh 
air and sunshine are to my happiness,” he said to 
his companion. “ We have left hell behind us !” 

“ But to Cecil Clement the dungeon is but 
the gate of heaven,” replied the lawyer. 

I am very sorry. Monsieur Romaine, that 
you angered Father Ignatius, I fear he will de- 
feat our plans. He has great influence with the 
prison officials. I had hoped to secure a private 
interview with the governor before this wily 
monk got at his ear. Now we shall be obliged 
to look elsewhere for assistance. I think I had 
better see Monsieur Riviere, the Inspector of the 
Police. I have some acquaintance with him, and 
perhaps he can influence the governor.” 

They had now reached St. Cyr, a respectable 
inn on one of the side streets of the city. Here 
the pastor’s wife had waited for news of her 
husband. To Armide Clement had come the 
Gethsemane of life. In a peculiar sense she was 
prepared for her trial. The shadow of appre- 
hension had been over her pathway so long that 
she had become accustomed to the thought of 
the evil days which must come. But when all 
God’s waves and billows rolled over her soul she 
was for a time overwhelmed — but not for long. 
Being in agony — she prayed. Oh, the light, the 


62 


PRO CHRISTO, 


peace, the faith, the hope which come with the 
healing anodyne of prayer ! At the foot of those 
wonderful altar stairs, which, beginning on earth, 
slope until they reach the great white throne, 
Armide Clement knelt, and in prayer she found 
the talisman for every agony. 

She saw her friends approaching the inn, 
and as they entered the salon she came eagerly 
forward. 

“Yes, Armide, v/e have found him and talked 
with him,” said her brother, answering the ques- 
tion that was in her eyes. 

“ You have seen Cecil and spoken with him,” 
she cried, her face radiant as the dawn. “ My 
God, thou art ever better to thy children than 
they deserve ! How could I ever have doubted 
thy goodness and thy love? I want to know 
every word that he said, Frangois.” 

“ You tell her. Monsieur,” replied the banker, 
turning to his companion. 

Monsieur Brousson led the pastor’s wife into 
a small apartment which opened out of the salon, 
and the banker followed. Then he told her the 
whole story of suffering unjustly inflicted, and 
of faith triumphant. No detail was omitted. 
He even told her of their unworthy attempt to 
persuade the pastor to secure his liberty. Then 
it was that Armide Clement’s gentle soul burned 
with indignation. 


A FRIEND IN NEED. 


63 

“ How did you dare to ask my husband to 
perjure himself?” she burst forth. “Did you 
not know that Cecil Clement would never stoop 
to an ignoble act ?” 

“You need not reproach us so stoutly, Ar- 
mide,” said the banker. “We did it for your 
sake and that of your children.” 

“Forgive me, Frangois! Forgive me. Mon- 
sieur! I did wrong to speak so hastily. You 
did what you thought was for the best, and I 
can never repay you for your kindness. If I 
only could see my husband once more ! Is it 
possible ?” 

“ I shall do my best to obtain this permis- 
sion,” said Claude Brousson ; “ but if I fail I 
think they will at least allow your husband to 
write you a letter.” 

“ That would indeed be a precious comfort,” 
answered the pastor’s wife. 

They now reentered the salon, and were just 
about ordering some refreshment, when Armide 
Clement, overcome with exhaustion, sank faint- 
ing on the floor. The only other occupant of 
the room was a monk, who sat by a table read- 
ing. He immediately closed his book and came 
forward. 

“ Madame has fainted. Allow me to assist 
you.” He produced a bottle of smelling-salts 
from his pocket and threw open the window. 


64 


PRO CHRISTO. 


“ She will revive presently,” he said, feeling of 
her wrist. The monk was a remarkable-looking 
man. He was tall, well-formed, and his face 
once seen could never be forgotten. His com- 
plexion was sallow and his nose prominent, but 
his eyes were fine. His face impressed one as 
being not only refined and intellectual, but above 
all it was noblesse. There was an exquisite har- 
mony and delicacy in every feature, which fas- 
cinated the beholder. 

“Are you in trouble, gentlemen ?” he inquired 
kindly. “ I could not avoid hearing snatches 
of your conversation from time to time, and it 
struck me that you are in difficulties. Can I be 
of any assistance to you ?” 

The banker regarded the speaker suspicious- 
ly. A sweet smile gathered about the priest’s 
mouth as he read the thoughts of the man be- 
fore him. 

“ You can trust me. Monsieur. I am L’Abbe 
F^nelon.” 

The effect of this name on Claude Brousson 
was electrical. 

“ Thank God !” he exclaimed. He recog- 
nized the name as belonging to one of the 
prominent leaders of the Roman-catholic church, 
and to one who stood high in the king’s favor. 
Abbe F6nelon was the Superior in a girls’ con- 
vent, and a man who combined in a remarkable 


A FRIEND IN NEED, 


65 

degree patience, sweetness of temper, and tact. 
He was liberal in his views and tolerant toward 
those who differed from him. He had many 
friends and but few enemies. 

Armide Clement had regained her conscious- 
ness, and her dull ears caught the name, “ Fen- 
elon.” 

She sat upright on the divan, and stretched 
out her hands beseechingly. 

'' Help me, kind sir ! You have a gentle 
heart. My husband said you were good and 
true, even though you belonged to a church 
whose hands were dyed with the blood of mar- 
tyrs !” 

These incoherent sentences did not convey 
much meaning to the Abba’s mind, and he 
looked inquiringly at Claude Brousson. 

“ Tell me the whole story. Monsieur, and I 
will help you if I can.” 

The lawyer then related the sad history of 
Cecil Clement’s arrest, trial, torture, and terrible 
sentence. He told him how cruelly Father Ig- 
natius had repulsed them when they begged 
that the prisoner might see his wife once more. 

The Abba’s face darkened at this recital and 
his eyes flashed fire. 

“ How often have I told them that gentle- 
ness and love were more powerful magnets than 
harshness and cruelty !” 

5 


66 


PRO CHRISTO, 


“ I would look upon my husband's face once 
more," moaned the pastor’s wife. 

“Take courage, Madame Clement. I will 
myself see the governor of the citadel and inter- 
cede in your behalf. He has never yet refused 
a request of mine. I am truly sorry for this 
calamity. I knew Cecil Clement slightly, and 
he was a noble man. I pray you to take some 
rest, Madame, for you will need all your strength 
to sustain you during your interview this even- 
ing. I will go at once to the citadel to await 
the governor’s return. There is no time to be 
lost. Adieu !" 

As the shadows of evening were falling over 
the city the Abbe Fdnelon appeared once more 
in the salon at St. Cyr. 

“ My daughter, be of good cheer. The gov- 
ernor has granted my request. Come at once 
with me to the citadel." 

“ To see my husband’s face for the last time !’’ 
said Armide Clement with quivering lips. 

“ Nay, do not lose heart, my daughter. The 
galleys do not necessarily mean death. There 
is always the hope of a pardon or an escape. 
Cecil Clement will not be put to the oar until 
he has fully recovered from the injuries inflicted 
in the torture-chamber. I find that you have 
been deceived in his destination. He goes to 
Tournay, a Belgian town on the French frontier. 


A FRIEND IN NEED. 67 

I am very glad to learn this, for a distant kins- 
man of mine is governor of that fortress, and I 
can bespeak for your husband many indulgen- 
ces which will greatly relieve his sad condition. 
Nay, do not kneel to me !” said the good Abb6 
as he lifted the grateful woman from her lowly 
posture. “ I am simply giving the cup of cold 
water in my Master’s name.” 

The banker stepped forward and grasped 
the Abba’s hand. “ I want to tell you how much 
I honor and respect you for your kindness to us 
Huguenots. I did not know that there was any 
charity to be found in your church.” 

“ There are a handful of us,” replied Fenelon, 
‘‘ who look upon men not as Catholics or Hugue- 
nots, but as Frenchmen and brethren. I would 
to God the number was legion ! But let us pro- 
ceed at once to the citadel.” 

To Cecil Clement, in his noisome dungeon, 
the hours passed slowly. The one lone sunbeam 
which found its way into the cell through a 
crack in the wall, had long ago disappeared. It 
was growing late. The jailor had been to the 
nicket in the door, and thrust in a piece of stale 
bread and a cup of water. All day long the 
pastor had been buoyed up by the thought that 
perhaps he should be allowed to see his wife 
once more. But as the hours crept slowly away 
his courage began to fail. Then as a child 


68 


PRO CHRISTO. 


flies to its mother’s breast, and finds there 
a sure refuge from trouble and care, so Cecil 
Clement turned his thoughts upward. “ O 
Christ, thou knowest all things ! Thou knowest 
that I love thee ! Thou, who hast trodden the 
wine-press alone, sustain me! My loved ones 
I commit to Thy care. No man shall be able to 
pluck them out of Thy hand ! ” 

Footsteps sounded in the corridor. Would 
they stop at his door ? Thank God, yes ! The 
rusty key turned once more in the lock, and the 
door opened. The light of the candle dazzled 
the eyes so accustomed to darkness, and the 
pastor could see no one. 

“ Cecil, my husband I” 

This voice was to his ears as sweet as the 
notes of a flute. 

“ Armide ! Armide !” 

The Huguenot pastor woke from his vision 
of celestial love to drink in the sweetness of hu- 
man love once more. And never to his thinsty 
soul had it seemed so sweet as now. Her arms 
were round his neck, and her warm kisses fell 
upon his cheek without stint. 

“ Oh, my love, my love, God has added this 
drop of sweetness to the bitter cup ! Praised be 
his name!” 

'‘Amen,” whispered the wife. Though he 
slay me yet will I trust in him !” 


A FRIEND IN NEED. 


69 

The pastor spoke once more the words which 
in the days of their youthful love she had de- 
lighted to hear. “ All thine own on earth be- 
loved, and in glory all thine own.” 

The fountain of her tears was opened, and 
Armide Clement wept. But not for long. 

“ To-day and all eternity for love, 

To-morrow and all after-life for tears,” 

she murmured as she pillowed her husband's 
head on her breast, and kissed the hands which 
tenderly caressed her cheek. 

“ I fear, beloved,” said the pastor, “ that I did 
wrong to tear you from your home, and link 
your life to my sad and stormy one. I suffer 
the keenest anguish when I think of the future 
of my wife and children.” 

“ Hush, love,” she replied, pressing him 
closer to her throbbing heart. “ Never for one 
moment have I regretted that step. It has 
ever been a joy to live beside one so noble and 
so Christ-like.” 

Then they spoke in subdued tones of the 
years which they had passed together, years of 
tried affection and of mutual helpfulness. Mem- 
ories, half forgotten, came freshly to mind. The 
past seemed to unfold before them like a pano- 
rama. They recalled their joy when first they 
came to their humble home nestled among the 
slopes of the C6vennes ; the births of their chil- 


70 


PRO CHRISTO. 


dren ; the different members of the flock of God, 
whose never-failing kindnesses had made the 
burdens of life easier to bear; and above and 
beyond all they recalled the sweet peace which 
had filled their hearts, and which came from an 
inward sense of God’s approval and God’s bene- 
diction. The minutes flew on wings. 

“ My hour is nearly spent,” whispered the 
Huguenot wife with quivering lips, as she clung 
passionately to the frail form beside her. 

“ God’s will be done, my precious wife. Let 
us learn the lesson the Father is teaching us. 
He loves us. Remember, he spared not his own 
Son, but for our sakes sent him to Gethsemane 
and Calvary. O Christ,” he cried, lifting his 
worn hands toward heaven, “ hide my treasures 
beneath thy shadowing wings. Keep them as 
the apple of thine eye. Preserve their souls 
from all evil. Permit us to meet again in the 
flesh if it be thy will, if not, in the many man- 
sions of the Father’s house.” 

When a little later the pastor’s wife passed 
out of that dungeon, her face was transfigured. 

The jailor said to the prison officials, that he 
had “ seen the face of an angel.” 

When she rejoined her friends outside of the 
citadel the Ahh€ F^nelon had returned to his 
convent. But before leaving he had distinctly 
charged the banker to see that his sister and her 


A FRIEND IN NEED. 71 

children were removed to a place of safety, as a 
warrant was about to be issued which would 
place the children of Cecil Clement in the con- 
vent and the cloister. 

That night the Huguenot mother and her 
children were en route for Montauban, where 
for a time, at least, they would be safe from 
persecution. At day-break Cecil Clement, the 
condemned galley-slave, started for his terrible 
destination. 

“ Hushed be my heart, and still, 

Fear I no further ill. 

Only to meet Thy will 
My will shall be.” 









‘ Stay, stay at home, my heart, and rest : 
Home-keeping hearts are happiest. 

For those that wander they know not where 
Are full of trouble and full of care ; 

To stay at home is best. 

‘ Weary, and homesick, and distressed. 

They wander east, they wander west ; 

And are baffled, and beaten, and blown about 
By winds of the wilderness of doubt ; 

To stay at home is best. 

‘ Then stay at home, my heart, and rest ! 

The bird is safest in its nest ; 

O'er all that flutter their wings and fly 
A hawk is hovering in the sky ; 

To stay at home is best." 


LONGFELLOW. 



IN THE ENEMY'S CAMP, 


75 


CHAPTER VI. 

IN THE ENEMY'S CAMP, 

Cardinal Mazarin, who was practically the 
head of the French nation during the young 
king’s minority, had advocated leniency toward 
the Huguenots. On one occasion he said : “ I 
have no complaint to make of the little flock, 
for if it feeds on bad pasture at least it does not 
go astray.” Cardinal Mazarin had been dead 
twenty years, and Louis XIV., now in the prime 
of manhood, had refused to All the place of 
premier, left vacant by Mazarin ’s death. When 
the president of the ecclesiastical council, Chau- 
valon, waited on the king to inquire to whom he 
should in the future address himself on ques- 
tions of public affairs, the young king answered, 
“ to myself !” 

The members of the royal cabinet were men 
of experience, and they recognized the voice of a 
master. Whether from motives of prudence or 
policy, they tamely submitted to the arrogant 
and arbitrary reign of Louis XIV. 

'‘Absolute power,” says Guizot, “is in its 
nature so unwholesome and dangerous that the 
strongest mind cannot always withstand it. It 
was Louis XIV’s misfortune to be king for 


76 


PRO CHRISTO. 


seventy-two years, and to reign fifty-six years as 
sovereign master.” 

The year 1682 was marked with fresh per- 
secutions of the reformed church. Anne of 
Austria’s dying command to her son was, that 
he should do his utmost to exterminate heresy 
from France. From this time onward the ruling 
ambition of Louis XIV. was to make his realm 
all catholic.” 

One summer morning, in a handsomely fur- 
nished boudoir in Chateau Blois, a Romish priest 
and a middle aged French woman of noble birth 
were conversing. 

On a table were the remains of a dainty lun- 
cheon. 

“Now let us get to business,” said the priest, 
draining his wine glass and replacing it on the 
table. “ Father Ignatius has written to inquire 
how the plan he suggested was developing.” 

“ It works like a charm. Monsieur le Cur6. 
Captain Harcourt has prolonged his stay beyond 
the allotted time, and for some reason is loath 
to leave La Rochelle. He seems to have for- 
gotten that duty calls him elsewhere, because 
he is bewitched by the handsomest pair of eyes 
in the city. As for Beatrice, she is all blushes 
and dimples at the mere mention of his name. 
I feel confident that the match is already as good 
as made.” 


IN THE ENEMY'S CAMP. 


77 


“ It is well !” replied the cure. “ Monsieur 
Romaine’s bank-notes, and the rich estate of 
Marquis Harcourt must, by hook or by crook, be 
caught in the net of the church. If, incidentally, 
we can make two young people happy, so much 
the better. By the way, is your niece devoted 
to the Huguenot faith ?” 

“ Just now she is,” laughed Madame. “ She 
has for a few weeks past attended church twice 
on Sundays. I was alarmed at her religious 
zeal, until I learned that Capt. Harcourt attend- 
ed these services also, and then I knew what was 
the magnet which drew her thither. I shall 
soon have Beatrice converted to the one true 
faith. Monsieur. She has already attended mass 
at the cathedral several times — just to hear the 
altar-boys sing, you understand — and she enjoyed 
it hugely. I have more fear from Capt. Har- 
court’s influence over her than from anything 
else. He comes of staunch Huguenot stock, 
does he not?” 

“ Yes,” answered the priest. “ But I have 
been watching him closely since his sojourn in 
La Rochelle, and I have come to the conclusion 
that he is a Huguenot from force of circum- 
stances, rather than from preference. Let me 
relate to you a little conversation which I was 
fortunate enough to overhear. 

“ Last week I entered one of the gaming 


78 


PRO CHRISTO. 


saloons of the city, and at one of the tables, in 
company with two other soldiers, was our gallant 
captain. They were playing Ombre, a new 
game of cards which they had learned from the 
Spaniards. The fate seemed to go against the 
captain, and he finally pushed back his chair 
and refused to play. 

“ * Luck seems to go against you at cards, as 
well as on the battle-field,’ said one of the sol- 
diers. ‘ The more valiantly you work the less 
recognition is made of your service. It is too 
bad, old comrade !” 

“ The captain threw aside the arm which his 
companion had laid familiarly on his shoulder, 
and exclaimed, ‘You know the reason of this 
injustice as well as I. To be a Huguenot is to 
be outside the pale of royal favor. King Louis 
is no statesman or he would not permit such 
rash distinction.’ 

“ ‘ You had better talk more softly, captain,’ 
said the other soldier. ‘ Walls have ears, and 
they tell us that there are eyes in France that 
never sleep. One might infer from what you 
just said that you were not loyal to the king.’ 

“ Our captain’s eyes flashed, and he sprang 
to his feet. 

“ ‘ Any one who dares insinuate that I am not 
loyal to my king will answer for it at the point 
of my sword,’ he cried hotly. 


IN THE ENEMY'S CAMP. 


79 


“ ‘ Come, captain ! do not take us seriously. 
We did but jest,’ said his comrade. 

“ ‘ King Louis,’ said the captain, seating him- 
self once more, ‘ King Louis is surrounded by 
heartless, ambitious men. They keep him in 
ignorance of the terrible persecutions which the 
Huguenots suffer. Our petitions never reach 
the king’s eyes. They are suppressed by the 
ministers in council.’ 

“‘You have been misinformed, captain. 
When Pierre du Bose, pastor of the church in 
Caen, delivered an eloquent address before the 
king, he told our sovereign some pretty plain 
facts. He dared to tell Louis that if the Hu- 
guenots were oppressed longer, they would seek 
safety in flight. He furthermore told the king 
that a great and lasting blow would be struck 
at commerce, if certain provinces were depop- 
ulated. He begged the king to protect the edict 
of Nantes from further infringements, telling 
Louis that the Huguenots regarded the edict 
as a dike reared for their defence. And how 
did our sovereign receive this appeal ? 

“ ‘ Ah, I will think of the matter,’ he said 
graciously, as he dismissed Monsieur du Bose. 
Turning to one of his courtiers he added, 

“ ‘ It is certain that this man is the finest speak- 
er in my kingdom.’ And how was M. Jean 
Claude’s masterly appeal received ? Our King 


8o 


PRO CHRISTO. 


took a pencil and wrote the word ‘Neant,’ naught, 
on the paper, and sent it back to the author. 
In the meantime persecution of the Huguenots 
became more rigorous.’ 

‘“You must be mistaken,’ cried the captain. 
‘ I never heard of this before. Why, the Hugue- 
nots have been faithful to the king when hun- 
dreds of Catholic Frenchmen have been waver- 
ing. The conspirators in the league against the 
state gave us the nickname ‘ Tant s’en fault,’ far 
from it ; so far removed have we always stood 
from treason. While others have responded to 
the cry ‘Vive Guise!’ or ‘Vive la Ligue !’ we 
have always stood by the king and our cry has 
ever been, ‘Vive le Roil Many and many a 
time has the crown been tottering on the king’s 
head, and we Huguenots have helped to steady 
it. I cannot credit your story. Surely the king 
would not so signally fail in administering jus- 
tice.’ 

“ ‘ You can hug this sweet illusion to your 
breast if you wish,’ replied the soldier. ‘ King 
Louis intends to suppress heresy. If you wish 
to win laurels you must go to confession.’ 

“ ‘ I shall not desert the faith of my fathers,’ 
said the captain, leaving the table. And Ma- 
dame, I could see very plainly that the Hugue- 
not religion was not a living, personal thing to 
him, but simply a bequest of his ancestry. Our 


IN THE ENEMY'S CAMP. 


8i 


young captain is ambitious, so I have great faith 
that we shall win him yet.’ ” 

“ Give both Beatrice and the Captain a win- 
ter in Paris at the Court, and I am willing to 
wager many a louis d’or that they will both get 
converted,” said Madame Moen. “ There they 
go to the afternoon service, now,” continued 
Madame, peeping through the closed shutters, 
“ Beatrice with her maid Florette. If you 
should follow them I doubt not but what you 
would find Capt. Harcourt on the church steps, 
waiting by appointment.” 

The priest took the hint and departed, but 
he kept his eyes upon the two maidens until 
they reached the Huguenot temple. 

“ Ah, Mademoiselle,” said the privileged 
maid as the two walked down the street. 
“ Capt. Harcourt is very handsome and gallant, 
but I saw the finest young man at my cous- 
in’s yesterday. He was a surgeon, and he came 
in to look at my little nephew who is a cripple. 
He was very serious, but he had a grand look 
and he was so kind to my cousin. He said if 
he were going to remain in the city he could 
help the lad, but he was obliged to leave in a 
day or two. But he told my cousin where to 
take little Oliver, and — ” 

“ Hush, Florette !” said her mistress severely. 
'' Do n’t you see that you are talking so loudly 
6 


82 


PRO CHRISTO, 


as to attract attention. Pray do not chatter any 
more. We are almost at the church.” 

Beatrice Romaine was as beautiful as a pic- 
ture, as dressed in white she walked up the 
stone steps to the portico. So thought a young 
soldier in gay uniform who stood in the vesti- 
bule. Her dark curls framed a face which was 
both piquant and sweet. She carried her little 
head with a patrician air. One would know 
without glancing at her small hands and feet 
and petite figure that gentle blood flowed in her 
veins. 

She looked up and smiled a recognition as 
she met the soldier’s gaze. 

“ May I sit beside you, Mademoiselle Ro- 
maine?” he said in a low tone, approaching and 
lifting her hand. 

If you wish. Monsieur le Capitaine,” she 
replied demurely. 

They passed into the church, which was 
thronged with worshippers, even though the 
summer heat made the atmosphere almost sti- 
fling. The Huguenot temple at La Rochelle 
was one of the finest Protestant places of wor- 
ship in all France. It was built in the form of 
an octagon, and the material used was dressed 
stones. The structure was about one hundred 
feet in diameter and about seventy feet high. 
It was well lighted by sixty large windows. 


IN THE ENEMY'S CAMP. 83 

Within these were spacious galleries on three 
sides of the building. The church could accom- 
modate seven or eight thousand worshippers. 
The edifice was surmounted by a belfry, and 
this in turn by the fieur-de-lis, the royal emblem. 
The Huguenots used this emblem on their 
churches instead of the cross, to show their 
loyalty to the king. 

A feeling of awe crept over the young sol- 
dier as he found himself again among those 
of kindred faith. While in the army he had 
grown indifferent to his religion, and in his 
desire to be popular he had found it wise to say 
nothing about his Huguenot principles. Now 
in the hush of this solemn hour his conscience 
upbraided him. His father’s words sounded in 
his ears. “ You are not a Huguenot for Christ’s 
sake. I shall know no peace until your soul is 
anchored to the Rock of Ages.” A wave of 
remorse swept over the young man and he said 
within himself, ‘‘ I have not been loyal to my 
faith, but at least I have not joined the papists.” 

In the pulpit sat M. Legendre, a venerable 
man with saintly face and long white beard. 
He arose and lifted his hands. Immediately 
the whole congregation fell upon its knees dur- 
ing the brief but impressive invocation. Then 
followed the singing of the Protestant battle 
hymn, “ Que Dieu se montre seulement.” 


84 


PRO CHRISTO. 


The audience rose and sang the entire psalm. 
The effect of this mighty chorus of living music 
was something grand. The tones of the great 
cathedral organ even would have sounded in- 
significant beside it. It was such a song as 
Israel sang at the Red Sea when in sight of her 
mortal foes. When the last notes of the hymn 
died away the minister followed with the beau- 
tiful liturgy prepared a century before by Cal- 
vin, and so hallowed had it become by its use 
on the battle fields, in dungeons, and by the 
martyrs at the stake, that it was rarely omitted. 

There’s the surgeon,” whispered the maid 
to Beatrice, as a young man quietly entered a 
side door, and seated himself near our friends. 

Beatrice frowned at this interruption, but 
her eyes followed the direction indicated. There 
was something familiar in the serious, scholarly 
face, and childish memories long forgotten came 
to her mind. The earnest tones of the minister 
recalled her wandering thoughts. The prayer 
was not long, but it was earnest and tender. 
The sound of subdued weeping was heard as 
the good man prayed for the Desert Church and 
for those who were suffering for Christ’s sake. 
After the singing of another metrical psalm the 
aged pastor arose to announce his text, but over- 
come with the heat which in that crowded room 
was almost stifling, he turned deathly pale and 


IN THE ENEMY'S CAMP. 


85 


Staggered backwards. A cry of alarm arose 
from the people. Pushing his way through the 
crowd with a strong effort the young surgeon 
sprang up the pulpit stairs and assisted the ven- 
erable pastor to a seat. Some one brought a 
glass of water. 

“Permit me to send the people to their 
homes,” said the young man to the minister. 

“ No, no !” was the reply. “ I shall be better 
directly. I have a message to deliver which I 
must make haste to speak while yet there is an 
opportunity.” 

Just at this moment sounds were heard 
which struck terror to every heart. It was the 
steady tramp, tramp, tramp of marching feet. 
A second later and the doors of the church were 
unceremoniously flung open, and a troop of 
the king’s soldiers marched up the aisle and 
commanded the minister to come down from 
the pulpit, as they were commissioned to arrest 
him in the king’s name. 

In an instant there was the wildest confu- 
sion. Men shouted and women fainted. A 
part of the congregation sought to escape 
through the open doors, and the other and by 
far the larger part of the people pressed near 
the minister to protect him from insult and 
injury. 

The noise and confusion increased. The 


86 


PRO CHRISTO. 


soldiers threatened to fire into the crowd if any 
resistance was attempted. The old minister 
stood up and tried to utter a protest, but in vain. 
The tumult increased. 

“ Tell my flock to make no resistance,” he 
said, turning to the young man beside him. 
“ Tell them I insist on three things — patience, 
obedience, forbearance.” 

The young man did as he was requested. 
Lifting his hand he said in loud, magnetic 
tones : 

Stop ! Listen !” 

A hush fell upon the audience, and the sol- 
diers instinctively lowered their muskets. 

Again the manly voice rang out like the 
tones of a clarion : 

“ Pastor Legendre commands you to offer no 
resistence, to exercise those virtues of submis- 
sion and forbearance which he has striven these 
many years to inculcate in your minds. Prove 
to him that he has not sowed the good seed in 
vain, by standing aside and allowing him to 
pass out with the soldiers, as the king has com- 
manded. Do you not know that you only im- 
peril the life of your beloved pastor by your 
interference in his behalf ?” 

Groans and tears were heard, but at these 
words the vast audience fell back as one man. 
The young surgeon motioned to the soldiers. 


IN THE ENEMY'S CAMP, 87 

who surrounded the aged apostle and led him 
away. As he passed down the aisle he lifted 
his hands in benediction : 

“ Now our Lord Jesus Christ himself, and 
God, even our Father, which hath loved us and 
hath given us everlasting consolation and good 
hope through grace, comfort your hearts and 
stablish you in every good word and work.” 




“Avenge, O Lord, thy slaughtered saints, whose bones 
Lie scattered on the Alpine mountains cold ! 

Even them who kept thy truth so pure of old. 

When all our fathers worshipped stocks and stones, 
Forget not I In thy book record their groans 
Who were Thy sheep, and in their ancient fold 
Slain by the bloody Piedmontese, that rolled 
Mother and infant down the rocks. Their moans 
The vales redoubled to the hills, and they 
To heaven. Their martyred blood and ashes sow 
O’er all the Italian fields, where still doth sway 
The triple tyrant ; that from these may grow 
A hundred-fold, who having learned thy way. 

Early may fly the Babylonian woe.” john milton. 






THE YOUNG PHYSICIAN. 


91 


CHAPTER VII. 

THE YOUNG PHYSICIAN. 

The white haired servant of God left his 
church never to return. The soldiers closed the 
massive doors and affixed thereon the royal seal. 
In a week the beautiful structure was razed to 
the ground, and the venerable minister and his 
family were exiled from their native land. Thus 
did Louis XIV. revenge himself upon his loyal 
subjects for the crime of Christian assemblies. 

When the soldiers first entered the church 
Beatrice Romaine uttered a low cry and clung 
to her escort's arm, while her maid filled the air 
with piercing screams. 

“ Are you frightened, dear,” said the young 
soldier, drawing the little hand over his arm. 

“ Yes,” answered Beatrice. “ But you will 
take care of us, will you not, monsieur?” 

“ With my life !” replied the captain, passion- 
ately. “ Hush !” he added sternly to the hys- 
terical servant, who stood wringing her hands 
and calling on the Virgin and all the saints to 
protect her. Do you not see that you frighten 
your mistress by your cries? You will not be 
harmed if you keep still and follow my advice.” 


92 


PRO CHRISTO. 


But the maid was not amenable to reason, 
and continued her cries and tears. With a look 
of disgust Capt. Harcourt turned on his heel. 
“ Follow me !” he said tenderly to mademoiselle. 
“ I will try and make a path to the door. Keep 
tight hold of my arm." 

Just then the voice of the young surgeon was 
heard. They paused to listen to the words which 
fell like oil on the troubled waters. Then the 
soldiers closed about their unresisting victim. 
Again the crowding and pushing began from 
that seething mass of humanity. It seemed as 
though they would be ground to powder in the 
terrible confusion which followed. A burly 
countryman, who in his excitement had lost all 
self-control, and was actuated by one idea, the 
instinct of self preservation, seized the shoulder 
of Beatrice Romaine in his powerful grasp, and 
endeavored to thrust her out of the way. 

“You idiot !" shouted the captain hotly, as he 
struck him with his fist. “ Do you not see that 
you are hurting this lady who is under my pro- 
tection ?" 

“ A thousand pardons," stammered the man, 
the blow having partially restored his scattered 
senses. I did not intend to harm mademoi- 
selle." 

Captain Harcourt put his arm about the girl 
and drew her closer. Her face drooped until it 


THE YOUNG PHYSICIAN 


93 


lay upon his breast like a snow-drop. Her eyes 
were closed. 

“ My God ! she is dead/' exclaimed the young 
man in tones of anguish. “ What shall I do ?” 

“ I think it is only a faint, Monsieur. I can 
direct you to a side entrance which is only a few 
steps from where you stand.” 

It was the young surgeon who spoke these 
words. He said something to the affrighted 
women and children who were endangering 
their own lives and those of others by strug- 
gling to no purpose. His words again had a 
magical effect. The crowding ceased, and in a 
few moments he had made a pathway and 
piloted the little company to a small door which 
had been concealed by the throng. Soon they 
were outside the church. Beatrice revived im- 
mediately on reaching the fresh air. 

“Thank God we are all safe!’ said the 
stranger. 

“ We owe you many thanks for your timely 
assistance,” said the captain. “Your face looks 
strangely familiar.” 

The young man smiled. 

“ Paul Clement I” exclaimed the soldier, 
grasping his hand warmly. 

“Is it indeed my Cousin Paul?” cried Bea- 
trice, her face dimpling with pleasure. “ This 
is an unexpected meeting. How you have 


94 


PRO CHRISTO. 


changed in your looks! You are taller and 
larger, and the mustache conceals the expres- 
sion of your mouth.” 

“ I have not seen you, little cousin, for five 
years, yet I should have known you anywhere, 
and Monsieur Harcourt also. I caught sight of 
you both when I was trying to quell the tumult, 
and recognized you at once. I came to you as 
soon as I could do so without being discovered 
by the soldiers. I saw they regarded me as a 
dangerous character, so I concealed myself until 
they had left the church.” 

‘‘You did a brave deed ! ” cried Beatrice en- 
thusiastically. 

“ That is true ! ” added Roland. He could 
not help feeling twinges of jealousy as he con- 
trasted his course with that of the young phy- 
sician. But he put the thought out of his mind 
as unworthy. “ Had I not been fettered by 
this,” he said, pointing to the insigna of his 
rank as officer in the king’s army, “ that godly 
man should never have been taken from the 
church !” 

“ It is far better as it is,” replied Paul. 

“How can you talk so?” said Beatrice in- 
dignantly. 

“ You shall know my reasons, cousin. I have 
been informed that the resistance which the 
Cevanols made when my father was arrested 


THE YOUNG PHYSICIAN. 


95 


increased the severity of his sentence. Those 
in authority said that father taught the people 
seditious doctrine, and they argued that the up- 
rising of the people in his behalf was ample 
proof of the truth of their statement. I felt un- 
willing to see this old, white haired minister 
driven to the galleys, and such would have 
been his sentence if any resistance had been 
offered. As it is, it is quite probable that the 
old pastor will simply be banished from the 
country, together with his family.” 

Have you heard anything from Uncle 
Cecil?” inquired Beatrice. 

A look of pain crossed the young man’s face. 
“We have learned nothing concerning his 
fate. I visited the Abh6 F4nelon, who you re- 
member was so kind to mother during her great 
trial, several times, but he could give me no in- 
formation. For some reason unknown to him, 
his kinsman, the governor of the castle at Tour- 
nay, was removed. He feels sure his kind in- 
tentions toward my father were discovered in 
time to be prevented.” 

“ Aunt Armide and the girls, how are they ? ” 
“ They are all well. Mother’s trial has aged 
her somewhat, but ordinarily she is cheerful and 
helpful. She says the uncertainty of father’s 
fate is what troubles her most. If she could 
only know that he had entered into rest, she 


96 PRO CHRISTO. 

feels that she could thank God. You know that 
we have moved back to Castres. As soon as I 
received my degree, six months ago, we returned 
to our beloved Cevennes. Isabel Paulet has been 
with us since her father’s recantation. I hardly 
know what mother and Constance would do 
without her, she is so strong and womanly. The 
old nurse Emilie taught the girls lace-making, 
and they are very busy over their new accom- 
plishment.” 

The party had now reached the Chateau 
Blois. “Will you not come in and see my 
aunt ? ” inquired Beatrice. 

“Not to-night, cousin ; but I will do so with 
pleasure, to-morrow, if possible.” 

“ I will walk back with you as far as the 
boulevard,” said the captain, as they bade Ma- 
demoiselle Romaine au revoir. 

“ What brings you to La Rochelle,” said the 
soldier, as they walked slowly down the avenue. 

“ I came to visit my good friend. Dr. Daill6, 
who is now located in this city. He was the 
Huguenot physician, who, at the risk of losing 
his position, took me in and treated me like a 
son during my stay in Montauban. I had the 
inestimable privilege of hearing his words of 
wisdom and of reaping the benefits of his long 
experience. He wrote me that he had some 
books and surgical instruments which he would 


THE YOUNG PHYSICIAN. 


97 


give me if I would come up and see him. He 
did not dare to send them to me, for the actions 
of the Huguenots are so closely watched. I 
could not have bought these books anywhere 
without exciting suspicion.” 

“They tell me,” said the captain, “that no 
Huguenot is now allowed to sit in the courts or 
parliaments, or administer the finances, or be- 
come medical practitioner, barrister, or notary. 
How do you manage to practise medicine with- 
out being detected ? ” 

“Your father. Monsieur, has leased me a few 
acres of land which I cultivate. I am, therefore, 
a farmer. When my friends need my services 
as a physician, they know where to find me.” 

“ And how is my father, Paul ? ” 

“ He is getting to be an old man. Monsieur, 
and growing feebler from year to year. You 
ought to go to him at once. He grieves over 
your long absence, although he is never weary 
of recounting your brave deeds on the battle- 
field, to his friends. The persecution of his 
church has well-nigh broken his heart.” 

“ I am ashamed of myself to have neglected 
father so long. I will go back with you, Paul. 
I did not know there had been any fresh perse- 
cution of the Huguenots. Tell me what has 
happened ? ” 

“Is it possible that you have not heard of 
7 


98 


PRO CHRISTO. 


the uprising at Montauban ! No ? It proved to 
be a serious affair, although it sprang from a 
petty quarrel among the college boys. You 
know that one half of the college building is 
devoted to the education of the protestant youth, 
and the other half to those of the Roman Cath- 
olic faith. The Jesuit priests encouraged their 
students to give a dramatical performance once 
a year. This year it was to be given in the 
courtyard, and a platform was erected for the 
purpose. The platform, intentionally or other- 
wise, projected in such a way as to completely 
cut off the entrance to the building which the 
protestant lads were in the habit of using. A 
quarrel ensued. There being only a handful of 
catholic students, they were speedily overcome, 
and fled to the belfry for safety. Determined to 
secure their revenge, they rang the tocsin. Im- 
mediately the consul and the bishop appeared. 
The later was foolish enough to regard the mat- 
ter seriously, and sent for a troop of gens d’ar- 
mes, who, without a warrant, arrested Gellius, 
a protestant youth and a candidate for the Hu- 
guenot ministry. The students, enraged at this 
injustice, marched to the castle, and released the 
prisoner. 

“ From this trifling cause terrible conse- 
quences followed. On being notified of the 
disturbance, the king sent and quartered upon 


THE YOUNG PH VS/C/AN 


99 


the city four thousand soldiers, with Saint Luc 
at their head. Many of the leading Protestant 
citizens were implicated in a crime of which 
they had never dreamed. Two were publicly 
hung, others sent to the galleys, and still others 
were banished. Several Huguenot churches and 
houses were torn down, and pyramids of infamy 
were erected in their places. Throughout the 
province the Protestant consuls were replaced 
by Roman-catholic ones. The Jesuits were given 
the use of the entire college building, and the 
protestant youth were sent to the obscure town 
of Paylaurens.” 

“ It is singular that father did not write me 
this news,” said the captain. “The fact is, I 
have not heard from him in a long time.” 

“ He has written to you several times lately,” 
said Paul, “ and he seemed pained that you neg- 
lected to answer.” 

“ I have sometimes thought my letters were 
intercepted,” said Roland. “ La Rochelle is 
full of Jesuits, and they hesitate at nothing 
mean or contemptible. The truth is, Paul, it 
has been hard for me to tear myself away from 
La Rochelle.” 

“Because of Beatrice Romaine?” said Paul 
inquiringly. 

“ Yes ; she is a winsome maiden, and I seek 
her for my wife. I shall be glad to have her 


lOO 


PRO CHRISTO. 


where your mother can counsel her, as I do not 
like Madame Moen. I have been forced to 
doubt her loyalty to the Huguenot faith. Sev- 
eral times as I have entered the chateau, a 
Jesuit priest has left it, and I always suspect 
that there is some intrigue going on when I see 
one of those fellows.” 

“ Monsieur Romaine told me that he was 
going to send for his daughter at once. He 
wants her bright face to light up the old cha- 
teau. These are my headquarters. Monsieur 
Roland,” he continued, as they stood opposite a 
respectable looking caf^. “ The people who run 
this establishment are friends of nurse Emilie, 
and she said I could trust them. Come in !” 

They had hardly entered the small stuffy 
parlor, when the landlady appeared in great 
agitation. ‘‘Monsieur Clement, you must hide. 
There are two gens d’armes searching the house. 
They are seeking for the young man who ad- 
dressed the people in the Huguenot temple. 
Let me conceal you in this clothes-press,” she 
continued, opening the door of a good sized 
closet. “ They have searched this place already 
and I do not think they will go through the 
room a second time.” 

“ I must leave the city to-night. Monsieur 
Harcourt,” said Paul. 

“Yes,” replied the landlady. “ My husband 


THE YOUNG PHYSICIAN. 


lOI 


will furnish you with a disguise. The city is 
ringing with the accounts of a wonderful stran- 
ger.” 

“ Good-by, Monsieur ! Explain my enforced 
absence to Beatrice !” and without further loss 
of time the young man was carefully stowed 
away in the press. 

As the gens d’armes came noisily down stairs, 
the captain sauntered into the hall. 

“ Seen anything of a broad shouldered young 
man, with a broad southern accent, fresh from 
the country ?” they inquired of the soldier. 

Yes, I met the same fellow,” replied Mon- 
sieur Roland, “ on the western boulevard about 
half an hour ago.” 

“We must catch him ! There ’s a big reward 
offered !” and away dashed the soldiers. 

That night, amid many perils, the young 
physician disguised as an old and infirm pedlar, 
left La Rochelle in safety. 


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^‘Not in the palaces of kings, nor in the halls of 
state, must we look for the true children of the Ref- 
ormation. We must go to the Tower of London, the 
Bastille of Paris, the prisons of the Inquisition in Spain, 
to the fetters, the stocks, the rack, the wheel, the stake. 
The godly men who invoked the sole intercession of 
Jesus Christ, and who in the midst of all their tribula- 
tions preserved their Christian patience — these were the 
true disciples of the Reformation.” 


MELANCTHON. 




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CLAUDE BROUSSON'S PLAN. 


105 


CHAPTER VIII. 

CLAUDE BROUSSONS PLAN. 

It was October, and the vineyards in the 
Valley of the Cevennes were crowded with vine- 
dressers, who were now reaping the reward of 
their patient toil. On the steep rocky sides of 
the mountain, where the soil was rich enough 
for cultivation, was a luxuriant growth of vines, 
laden with clusters of grapes. The air was 
redolent with the fragrance of this delicious 
fruit. Peasants walked down the mountain 
paths carrying well-filled baskets on their heads, 
and singing gay songs as they went. The 
golden sunshine heightened the beauty of the 
landscape. While in other parts of France 
fair provinces had been devastated by fiame 
and sword, all was peace in the Valley of the 
Cdvennes. The loyalty of the people in these 
districts had been so pronounced that mission- 
aries had been set there, instead of gens d’armes. 

The aged Marquis Harcourt sighed as he 
gazed at the quiet beauty of the scene. 

“ This stillness is ominous ! I fear it is but 
the lull in the tempest before the fury of the 
hurricane. Why, child, read to me the passages 
I love, from God’s book.” 


io6 


PRO CHRISTO. 


Constance Clement responded, and in low 
musical tones read the psalm so dear to the old 
soldier’s heart : “ Lord, thou hast been our dwell- 
ing-place in all generations.” Then she turned 
to the Master’s words on the night of his be- 
trayal : Let not your heart be troubled .... 
In my Father’s house are many mansions .... 
I go to prepare a place for you,” nor did she 
close the book until she had read Paul’s trium- 
phant words : “ O death, where is thy sting ! O 
grave, where is thy victory ! Thanks be to God 
which giveth us the victory through our Lord 
Jesus Christ.” 

Fulcrand Rey, the youthful pastor, surveyed 
the picture before him with admiration. The 
spacious hall was decorated with antlers, and 
the floor was covered with skins, both trophies 
of the chase. A bright fire blazed on the hearth. 
The white haired marquis sat in an easy chair, 
while at his feet dozed Bruno, the faithful St. Ber- 
nard dog. On a low ottoman sat a young girl of 
fourteen, with a fair sweet face and long golden 
curls, which fell over the large Bible on her knees. 

Bruno heralded the arrival by rising and ap- 
proaching the door. 

“ It is the good pastor,” cried Constance, as 
she sprang to meet him. 

“Welcome a thousand times, my friend!” 
said the marquis. 


CLAUDE BROUSSON’S PLAN. 


107 


“ A messenger was coming to the castle with 
a despatch, and as I was passing this way, I 
offered to bring it. I trust it contains nothing 
amiss.” 

The marquis took the packet, and his hand 
trembled slightly as he broke the seal. 

Rejoice with me, my friend, and you too. 
Snowdrop. Roland writes that he shall be here 
to-night, and the good doctor accompanies him. 
This is indeed good news !” 

Constance rose, her cheeks glowing with 
pleasure. 

“ If you will excuse me. Monsieur, I will go 
home and tell mother and Isabel that Paul is 
coming.” 

Do so at once, my child, and my blessing 
go with you.” 

How much she resembles her father,” said 
the young man as he watched her running swift- 
ly down the avenue. 

'‘Yes,” sighed the old man; “she has his 
face and his voice. Sometimes when my eyes 
are closed, and she is reading God’s promises, 
I can see my sainted friend once more. His 
voice was like the chime of evening bells as 
they are borne over the water. I cannot recover 
from the loss which his absence brings me daily. 
Have you any news concerning our afflicted peo- 
ple, Monsieur Rey ?” 


io8 


PRO CHRISTO. 


“ There is persecution all around us. Fresh 
insults are heaped upon the Huguenots daily. 
I hear that Minister Louvois is determined on 
a war which will exterminate heresy from the 
kingdom.” 

“ It was a sad day for us when M. Colbert 
died,” sighed the Marquis. He exerted himself 
to keep open to the Huguenots the trades most 
essential to the great manufacturing industries 
of the nation, for he realized, as none other, 
that the Huguenots were a powerful prop to 
the prosperity of the kingdom. As long as 
he lived, Louis XIV. or his council did not 
dare to openly persecute the Protestants. With 
Louvois has begun the reign of intolerance and 
blood-thirstiness. M. Louvois is a good friend 
as long as he is one, and a most ferocious and 
implacable enemy. He is a man who will not 
brook opposition. He hates the Huguenots, 
and in order to exterminate them he has in- 
vented the dragonnades. 

“ Do you think the king will dare to revoke 
the edict of Nantes ?” 

“ I did not think so until the Widow Scarron 
obtained such an influence over him. She is a 
designing, ambitious woman, with a powerful 
intellect and fascinating manners. She urges 
Louis to crush the Protestant religion, and by 
doing the church such a signal service, to atone 



MME. DK MAINTENON. 





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CLAUDE B ROUS SON'S PLAN. 


109 


for the excesses of his youth. Evidently the 
king hesitates at taking so pronounced a step as 
to revoke the edict. But with Madame de Main- 
tenon, as the king is pleased to style her, and 
M. Louvois against him, I doubt if he can long 
withstand the combined influence of the two. 
I tell you, my young monsieur, the fate of 
France is in the hands of that woman. She 
winds our fickle monarch about her little finger. 
They say she remains in the council-chamber, 
and many important decisions have been ren- 
dered by her. Louis turns to her with the 
words, ‘And what does your Solidity think 
about the matter ?’ Her answer outweighs every 
voice in France.” 

“ And yet the Widow Scarron, when a girl, 
was a staunch Huguenot!” exclaimed the pas- 
tor. “ She must remember those early associa- 
tions.” 

“ Frances d’ Aubigne was a girl with gener- 
ous, noble impulses. Satan desired her that he 
might sift her as wheat. How well I remember 
her childhood and youth ! On the death of her 
parents, which occurred when she was about 
fourteen, she went to live with her aunt, Mad- 
ame Villette, and while here she became con- 
verted to the reformed religion. By an official 
order she was removed from her aunt’s protec- 
tion and sent to the convent of the Ursulines. 


I lO 


PRO CHRISTO. 


She wrote to her aunt while here, ‘You can 
have no conception what a hell this so-called 
house of God is to me, nor the ill-treatment, 
harshness and cruel actions of the women who 
have been constituted guardians of my body — 
not myself, however, for that they cannot reach.’ 
After a time, continued persecution undermined 
her religious zeal, and she renounced her faith, 
after having made a determined fight to main- 
tain it. Still worse, she became a zealous perse- 
cutor, bringing her gifts of intellect and charms 
of conversation to bear against the Huguenots. 
I fear the avenues to her heart are now closed. 
We can scarcely hope for mercy from this quar- 
ter.” 

“ Have you heard of the plan proposed by 
the advocate, Claude Brousson, Monsieur Har- 
court ?” 

“No. What is it?” 

“ He says that it is time to cry a halt. The 
Huguenots have been so submissive that their 
enemies hold them in derision. ‘ Patience de 
Huguenot,’ has become a proverb. Accordingly 
he has sent a letter to all the consistories in the 
province of Languedoc advising that they open 
their churches next Sunday, and meet for wor- 
ship, celebrating the ordinances of baptism and 
the Lord’s Supper as usual. He is confident 
that if all the churches will combine in do- 


CL A UDE BRO USSON'S PLAN. 1 1 1 

ing this it will have some weight with the 
king.’’ 

“This is a piece of hare-brained folly,” cried 
the marquis, springing to his feet and pacing 
the floor in his excitement. “ Cannot the affair 
be prevented ?” 

“No,” replied M. Rey sadly. M. Brousson 
was overwhelmed with remonstrances, but he 
persisted in carrying out his plan. He cannot 
abide the sight of our closed temples.” 

“ Does he not know that to open church 
doors on which the royal seal has been affixed 
is to deny the king’s authority ? Our monarch 
is too conceited to allow such an affront to pass 
without severe punishment. Our advocate means 
well, but he is too impetuous. Let us hope that 
his plan will not succeed.” 

“ I am very sorry that I cannot stop and see 
your son and the doctor,” said M. Rey, rising. 
“ I have to preach to-night in a hamlet ten miles 
from here, so I must be on my journey.” He 
hastily swung himself into the saddle, and wav- 
ing a farewell to his aged friend rode away. 

As he rode slowly down the hill he passed 
Constance Clement. Reining his horse he called 
her to his side. Her face was aglow with de- 
light at the sight of her beloved pastor. Gazing 
into those large, clear eyes, windows through 
which that pure soul looked, he thought to him- 


12 


PRO CHRISTO. 


self, “ What a woman five years will make of 
her; a treasure any man might be proud to 
obtain.” 

“ What did you wish, M. Rey ?” said the girl 
laying her hand in his with the charming con- 
fidence of a child. 

“ I wish to strengthen my faith, little one. 
Tell me, have you no fears for the future ? 
Does this terrible storm of persecution make 
you afraid ?” 

“ Sometimes it does, M. Rey ; but those sweet 
words which I have just read, M. Harcourt, come 
to my mind. ‘ I will fear no evil, for thou art 
with me.’ Then I am afraid no longer.” 

“ Keep your trusting spirit, sweet child,” said 
the young minister, laying his hand tenderly on 
her head. No matter what comes, trust in 
God. Now I must say adieu. Tell your bro- 
ther that I will see him to-morrow.” 

“ Of such is the kingdom of heaven,” he said 
thoughtfully as he rode away. ** God willing, I 
will one day seek to win this rare soul, and 
together we will do the Master’s work.” 

M. Rey had not gone more than a mile 
when the near report of a pistol caused his 
horse to rear and plunge violently. A loud cry 
was heard and all was still. Hastily dismount- 
ing, the young minister proceeded in the direc- 
tion whence these sounds had issued. 




‘‘Once to every man and nation comes the moment to 
decide, 

In the strife of truth with falsehood, for the good or 
evil side ; 

Some great cause, God’s new Messiah offering each 
the bloom or blight. 

Parts the goats upon the left hand, and the sheep upon 
the right. 

And the choice goes by for ever, ’twixt that darkness 
and that light” • lowell. 

“ Yet still there whispers the small voice within. 

Heard through gain’s silence and o’er glory’s din ; 

Whatever creed be taught, or land be trod, 

Man’s conscience is the oracle of God.” byron. 


8 



RETRIBUTION, 


115 


CHAPTER IX. 

RETRIBUTION. 

In the humble cottage of Marc Biron the 
aged grandfather was dying. His children were 
gathered about his bedside shedding tears of 
natural affection as the parting hour drew nigh. 
A young woman of fine presence and winning 
face was repeating precious promises from God’s 
Word, which seemed to afford the aged Chris- 
tian rare comfort. 

Isabel Paulet has developed from a timid, 
shrinking child into a woman of unusual strength 
of character. Her face was not, strictly speak- 
ing, beautiful, but there was about it an inde- 
finable charm which made it very attractive. 
Her broad, white forehead, from which the 
bands of glossy dark hair were smoothly drawn, 
the clear, penetrating eyes and delicately curved 
lips revealed a character at once spiritual and 
intellectual. She accompanied Madame Clem- 
ent in her labors among the poor, and often- 
times went alone to relieve cases of distress. 

“ Be of good cheer, monsieur,” she said to 
the old man, “ you are almost home. Do you 
feel beneath you the Everlasting Arms?” 


ii6 


PRO CHRISTO. 


“Yea, verily,” said the dying Huguenot. 
“ Christ comforts me now.” 

A loud knock was heard at the door. On 
opening it Monsieur Biron was confronted by a 
Romish priest. 

“ I have come to administer the last rites of 
the church to your father.” 

“ You cannot enter,” replied Marc sturdily, 
closing the door in the priest’s face with a bang. 

The vicar departed in a rage. In about half 
an hour he was succeeded by the curate and a 
judicial officer who demanded entrance in the 
king’s name. Resistance was useless, and 'the 
dying Huguenot was soon at the mercy of his 
enemies. 

“ Profess the tenets of the mother church 
and receive the sacrament,” said the priest, ap- 
proaching the bedside. 

“ I will never recant !” was the reply. 

“ If you do not, when you are dead your body 
shall be dragged about the streets on a hurdle 
and then flung into the sewer,” 

“You can do whatever you please with my 
body,” answered the sufferer, “ but my soul you 
can never touch, for it will be with God.” 

“ Do not be so sure of this,” stormed the 
priest. “ The souls of such miserable heretics 
as you will remain in hades, and suffer untold 
agonies.’ 


RETRIBUTION. 


117 

The old Huguenot raised his eyes toward 
heaven and cried in tones of exultation, “ I know 
in whom I have believed, and am persuaded 
that He is able to keep that which I have com- 
mitted unto him against that day.” 

At the entrance of the priest Madame Biron 
had drawn Isabel into an adjoining room, and 
bade her hasten from the house. 

God forbid that we should bring you and 
our good friend, Madame Clement, into trouble. 
Go, I entreat you, before your presence is no- 
ticed by the priest.” 

Thus urged, Isabel Paulet hastened from the 
cottage. When about half-way up the moun- 
tain path she heard a pistol-shot and cries of 
distress. Without a moment’s hesitation she 
turned her steps in the direction of these sounds, 
and emerged upon the scene almost as soon as 
Monsieur Rey. 

A strange sight met their eyes. A man lay 
stretched upon the ground, a repulsive looking 
object in rags, shaggy, unkempt, looking more 
like a wild beast than a human being. Kneel- 
ing beside him was Dr. Clement, endeavoring 
to staunch the blood which escaped from an 
ugly wound. Roland Harcourt was assisting 
him. 

“What is the meaning of this?” cried Mon- 
sieur Rey and Isabel in the same breath. 


ii8 PRO CHRISTO. 

Dr. Clement made no answer, but the cap- 
tain replied briefly : 

“ Treachery ! We left the stage at Agout, 
and concluded to walk the rest of the way. We 
stopped here to rest, and the doctor being over- 
come with fatigue, went to sleep. I was getting 
a little drowsy, when a stealthy step in the un- 
derbrush aroused me. This savage looking man 
was creeping along toward the doctor, with a 
knife in his hand and murder in his eye. In a 
second more he would have despatched our good 
doctor, and I shot him as I would a dog. Do 
you know him ?” 

“ It is Benoni, the wandering Jew,” said Isa- 
bel, as she scanned the man’s features more 
closely. “ He has haunted the ruins of the Hu- 
guenot temple for a month, and has shunned 
observation. He seemed to be crazy, whether 
from sorrow or from drink, I know not.” 

Fulcrand Rey put his hand in the man’s 
breast pocket and drew out a tattered and soiled 
piece of paper. It was a part of the Gospel of 
St. John, and on one side was written, “To Mi- 
chel Arnot, from his pastor, Cecil Clement.” 

“Yonder man is Michel Arnot,” said Mon- 
sieur Rey, as he passed the paper to the young 
surgeon. 

“ This man the betrayer of our revered pas- 
tor !” cried Roland Harcourt, with rising anger. 


RETRIBUTION, T19 

“ Thank God that I shot him. Leave his wounds 
to bleed, Paul. He does not deserve attention 
at your hands.” 

“ Hush !” replied Dr. Clement in husky tones. 
“ Who says, ' If thine enemy hunger, feed him ? 
If he thirst, give him drink ?’ I shall do my 
best for this wretched man. Go tell my mother, 
Isabel, to prepare a room for Michel Arnot. 
Our cottage is the nearest one.” 

The young woman moved swiftly away to do 
the doctor’s bidding. 

‘‘ What !” cried Roland, “ will you make your 
mother nurse her husband’s betrayer, and the 
would be assassin of her son ?” 

A grave smile hovered about the young doc- 
tor’s lips. “ You would not speak as you do if 
you really knew my mother. Monsieur le Capi- 
taine. It would be her wish to have Michel 
conveyed to her home. Her task will not be 
for long. The man is mortally wounded.” 

“You are right,” said Monsieur Rey. “I 
have often heard Madame Clement express the 
wish that she might see Arnot again, and assure 
him of her forgiveness. You are welcome to 
the use of my horse. An hour’s delay will make 
little difference to me in my plans for the pr^che 
this evening.” 

The little party soon wended its way to the 
stone parsonage where Madame Clement awaited 


120 


PRO CHRISTO. 


them with words of welcome for her son and his 
friends, and a look of compassion for the unfor- 
tunate wretch whose avenging Nemesis had at 
last overtaken him. 

“ Will he live ?” she asked her son, as they 
laid him carefully on the best bed. 

“ No. He is mortally wounded. I hardly 
think he will regain consciousness again.” 

“ Poor Michel ! Would that I could assure 
him of your father’s forgiveness and of mine 
before he died.” 

“ Let no man trust the first false steps 
Of guilt ; it hangs upon a precipice 
Whose steep descent soon in perdition ends/’ 

said M. Rey solemnly. 

“ I trust that he has repented ere this,” said 
Madame. “ For the last crime which he con- 
templated I believe he was irresponsible. His 
poor brain was crazed with remorse. How I 
wish we could point him to the Lamb of God, 
who taketh away the sins of the world. Your 
father said he was more sinned against than 
sinning. His conscience has upbraided him for 
his sin until the poor brain was overwhelmed.” 

The wounded man began to mutter incoher- 
ently, and to move restlessly from side to side. 
His eyes opened and the pupils dilated. The 
muscles of his face worked convulsively. Great 


RETRIBUTION. 


21 


drops of perspiration stood out on his brow, and 
he uttered a piercing cry. 

The doctor prepared a soothing draught 
which he succeeded, with difficulty, in making 
his patient swallow. 

“ Oh, coward conscience, how thou dost afflict me !” 

Cold fearful drops stand on my trembling flesh ! 

Is there a murder here ? 

Then fly ! What from ? Myself ? 

My conscience has a thousand tongues 

Thronging to the bar and crying all. Guilty ! Guilty ! 

I do not think, M. Harcourt, that you need 
to fear that Arnot has not been sufficiently 
punished for his sin. His guilty conscience 
has been like a scourge lashing him all these 
years.” 

The dying man did not speak again. Toward 
midnight the last great change came over his 
countenance. 

His soul is passing to its final account,” 
said the doctor, feeling the fiuttering pulse. 

Let us commend him to God.” 

Madame Clement and her son knelt by the 
bedside and pleaded that God for Christ’s sake 
would have mercy upon the prodigal. During 
the prayer the spirit of the unhappy man took 
its flight. The next day he was buried in the 
glen. 

When Roland Harcourt visited his friends 


122 


PRO CHRISTO. 


Madame Clement said to him, ‘‘You do not 
know, my young sieur, how much I regret that 
Michel did not regain consciousness that I might 
have fed his starving soul with the bread of 
life.” • 

“ Why, Madame,” replied the captain. “ It 
struck me that this was a great mercy.” 

The pastor’s wife looked at the young man 
with eyes that were full of pity. 

“ Forgive me, Madame,” said Roland hum- 
bly. “ It is impossible for me to feel as you 
do.” 

Well might the young sieur regard Armide 
Clement with veneration. To God’s children 
the shadow of the cross of Calvary becomes 
paradise. The darkness He fills with the sun- 
light of angel faces and the music of angel 
songs. When all our restless longings become 
centered in the one desire, to be like Christ, 
when we have none on earth or in heaven 
whom we desire to see so much as the face of 
our Lord — then comes the peace which passeth 
all understanding. 

“ Oh true self raised to true unselfishness, 

Living for Him alone who is thy life." 

It had been thus with Armide Clement. The 
deep furrows on her brow, and the early frosts 
on her head, were not the only marks which five 


RETRIBUTION. 


123 


years of patient suffering had wrought. The 
bruised heart had developed possibilities of 
sweetness and strength with which to bless 
others. The stricken woman had become a 
ministering angel to all in the valley of the 
C6vennes. 







^‘Henceforth then 
It matters not if storm or sunshine be 
My earthly lot, bitter or sweet my cup, 

I only pray, ‘ God fit me for the work ; 

God make me holy, and my spirit nerve 
For the stern hour of strife/ Let me but know 
There is an arm unseen that holds me up. 

An eye that kindly watches all my path, 

Till I my weary pilgrimage have done ; 

Let me but know I have a Friend that waits 

To welcome me to glory, and I joy 

To tread the dark and death-fraught wilderness/" 


SMOULDERING FIRES. 


127 


CHAPTER X, 
SMOULDERING FIRE. 

A FEW evenings later, as Roland Harcourt 
was wending his way toward the parsonage, he 
caught a glimpse of a young girl some distance 
away. Something about the poise of the head 
and the slender carriage reminded him of Bea- 
trice Romaine. With quickened pulses he 
hastened his steps. The girl evidently knew 
that she was an object of pursuit for she quick- 
ened her pace perceptibly. Curiosity overcom- 
ing her fear she turned her face in order to gain 
a sight of her pursuer. 

Mademoiselle Romaine !” cried the captain 
joyfully. 

Beatrice held out both hands to him with a 
radiant expression, 

Capt. Harcourt !” “ This is indeed an un- 

expected pleasure,” continued the young man. 
“ Dr. Clement thought that we should not see 
you for some time, as your aunt was so loath to 
spare you. I am puzzled to know what brings 
you out on this lonely road at this time of night, 
without an escort.” 

I do not wonder at your surprise,” said 
Beatrice. The truth in a few words is this : 


128 


PRO CHRISTO. 


father has just signed the recantation papers, 
and he urged me to follow his example. He 
seemed so angry at my refusal that I thought I 
would flee to Aunt Armide’s until the storm 
was spent.” 

The captain had not found it necessary to 
release the little hands which had been held 
out to him so trustingly. Beatrice,” he said 
in tones of suppressed emotion,” when you were 
in peril in that Huguenot temple and sought 
my protection, I found that there was nothing 
so dear to my heart as the thought of winning 
you and having the right to shield you with my 
love and my life. Do not be startled by my 
abruptness,” he pleaded as the wildrose flush 
deepened on the rounded cheek, and the starry 
eyes were persistently veiled. “ I had hoped 
to conceal my passion until I had wooed you 
gently but irresistibly to my side. But your 
lonely and unprotected condition and the perils 
of the hour all impel me to seek now to make 
you mine. Lift your eyes, little one, and let me 
read in their sweet depths if my suit is in vain.” 

Slowly, very slowly, the drooping head was 
lifted, and in those tear-gemmed eyes Roland 
Harcourt evidently read the answer he desired, 
for he immediately appropriated those pouting 
cherry lips and took, without stint, a lover’s 
privilege. 


SMOULDERING FIRES. 


129 


“You are trembling, dearest. There is a chill 
in the night air. We must hasten to the parson- 
age.” In spite of her protest he removed his 
cape and folded it about her shoulders. 

They tapped at the parsonage door, and then 
entered without ceremony. 

“ This is my bride-elect,” said Captain Har- 
court, leading the blushing girl into the room. 
“Will you take care of her for me, Madame 
Clement ?” 

Beatrice ran into the arms which were out- 
stretched to receive her. “ My precious child, 
we are indeed glad to see your face again !” 

Isabel and Constance left their embroidery 
frames to greet their play-fellow of other days, 
while the doctor said heartily, “ Little cousin, 
welcome home ! Receive our warmest congratu- 
lations on the eve of your betrothal. We gladly 
resign you to the care of one so much loved by 
us as Captain Harcourt,” and he laid his hand 
on his friend’s shoulder. 

“What brings you to us at this late hour, 
my child?” said Madame Clement anxiously. 
“ Are you in any danger ?” 

“ Father has signed the recantation. He 
wanted me to sign it too, but I refused. They 
threatened me with the convent, so I have come 
to you, as Isabel said, for refuge. You will not 
turn me away ?” 

9 


30 


PRO CHRISTO. 


Never !” replied Paul, while Madame Clem- 
ent drew the girl still closer to her bosom. 

“When thy father and thy mother forsake 
thee, then the Lord will take thee up,” whis- 
pered Isabel with a loving pressure of the hand. 

“ My poor brother Francois !” said Madame 
Clement. “ I am afraid he will learn some day 
to his sorrow the meaning of those words, ‘ He 
that saveth his life shall lose it.’ How did it 
happen, Beatrice?” 

“ It is all on account of Father Ignatius,” re- 
plied the girl. “ How I hate that man ! He 
came to father with smooth words and honeyed 
phrases on his lips. Then he brought forward 
the recantation for him to sign. Father begged 
for time in which to consider the matter, but 
the priest said that delays were dangerous. He 
threatened him with the terrible dragonnades if 
he did not affix his signature to the document 
at once. The thought of the dragonnade was 
enough to make father yield. He consented to 
let me come and stay with you until the storm 
had blown over, although it grieved him to 
spare me so soon after my return. But it will 
seem nice to be with you all once more. Isabel 
is actually taller than I am, and Constance is as 
demure as a nun,” and Beatrice laughed the 
gay, careless laugh of youth. The thought came 
to Captain Harcourt, as he looked at the sweet, 


SMOULDERING FIRES. 


31 


piquant face, that he should esteem it a high 
privilege to shield that young life from impend- 
ing dangers. Gladly would he fight battles for 
two, if only she might be spared the terrors of 
persecution. 

Did we interrupt some serious discussion ?” 
asked Beatrice, “when we came in, for you were 
all as grave and solemn as judges?” 

“We were speaking of the great sorrow 
which came to Marc Biron’s household. Of 
course you have heard of the terrible outrage 
which was perpetrated upon the dead body of 
Marc’s father? The priests actually dared to 
carry out their threat of dragging the corpse on 
a hurdle through the streets, and then casting it 
into the sewer. This was done as a warning to 
Huguenots.” 

“ Horrible !” cried the captain. “We heard 
of it, but father was unable to do anything to 
prevent it. His influence with the Intendant 
has long been on the wane. But I saw a sadder 
sight in Toulouse yesterday, while transacting 
some business for father. It seems the Intend- 
ant has ordered the mill owners to employ none 
but Catholics. Hundreds of Huguenot weavers 
were thus thrown out of employment. Those 
who recanted were received back into the mill. 
When hunger gnawed their vitals, most of the 
Huguenots were ready to recant. I came across 


132 


PRO CHRISTO. 


the family of one Jean Rohan who preferred to 
starve rather than deny the faith. I will not 
harrow your feelings by describing the starving 
mother and her babies. It is enough to know 
that it made my heart sick, and I have seen 
gruesome sights before. I was able to relieve 
their immediate necessities, and father has sent 
for the weaver to come and live on his estate, 
and with his family to occupy the porter’s lodge.” 

It is a sad story,” said the doctor, “ and one 
which is being repeated daily, I fear.” 

“ By the way, Paul, what do you think of 
Claude Brousson’s plan, which is to be carried 
into effect next Sunday?” 

“ My answer is soon given. It cannot possi- 
bly lead to anything except fresh calamities,” 
replied Paul. “ Claude Brousson dreams of con- 
solidation, but this is impossible. We are under 
too close surveillance, and too heavily fettered 
to permit concerted action. I await the results 
of this scheme with fear and trembling.” 

“ There will shortly be no choice left us but 
resistance or extermination,” said the captain. 
“For myself I would rather have our people 
make a desperate struggle for religious freedom 
than to sit quietly down and be butchered like a 
drove of sheep.” 

“ That is just my mind,” cried Beatrice, giv- 
ing the soldier a look that fairly dazzled him. 


SMOULDERING FIRES. 


133 


“ I am not ready to believe our cause is so hope- 
less as Cousin Paul asserts. Do n’t you believe 
in resistance, Isabel ?’ 

“ I think we can best honor our religion by 
following the footsteps of the One who was led 
as a lamb to the slaughter ; who, when reviled, 
reviled not again,” replied the girl. 

“If I were a man I would not sit tamely 
down to be trampled under foot,” said Beatrice 
with sorrow. “I am not afraid to die, but I 
would die fighting.” 

The martial spirit in the captain awoke at 
these words. “ If a man had only himself to 
think of, he might act otherwise ; but for a man 
to forsake his hearthstone, and leave his wife 
and children to the brutal treatment of dra- 
goons, without lifting his finger in their defence, 
appears to me to be an unpardonable offence. 
The person who can suffer this to be done has 
not a spark of manhood in him. I see a vision. 
Mademoiselle Romaine, of gleaming camp fires 
and unsheathed swords. I see the Huguenots 
gathering together under one standard, and 
asserting their rights, as our fathers did under 
the previous reign. Shall we bend our necks to 
the heel of the tyrant? No! a thousand times 
No ! The sheathed blade may rust with darker 
sin than that of blood shed in the cause of op- 
pressed humanity.” 


134 


PRO CHRISTO. 


Dr. Clement glanced apprehensively at the 
open window. Isabel rose and closed it. The 
lips of Beatrice Romaine curved in scorn. The 
word coward was on her lips, but it remained 
unuttered, for Isabel had arisen and with great 
dignity addressed herself to the captain : 

Monsieur le Capitaine, your pastor told us 
a little incident which happened in La Rochelle 
a short time since. The scene was laid in a Hu- 
guenot temple ; the edifice was crowded to the 
doors ; a body of gens d’armes entered and ar- 
rested the aged pastor ; a mob threatened to res- 
cue him, and danger and bloodshed were immi- 
nent. A young man, alone and unarmed, step- 
ped forward, and at the peril of his life, quelled 
the turbulent throng and saved hundreds of 
lives by his words of protest. Was not this man 
as brave as he who unsheathed his sword on the 
battle-field? For the weapons of our warfare 
are not carnal but spiritual.” Overcome by the 
intensity of her emotions, Isabel left the room. 

“ Forgive me, Paul, if I wilfully misunder- 
stood you,” said the captain, reaching out his 
hand to his friend. I never saw a more mag- 
nificent act on the battle-field than yours at La 
Rochelle. You must be patient with me, for I 
have not your calm, judicial temperament, and 
my blood boils at the indignities which are 
heaped upon my people.” 


SMOULDERING FIRES. 


35 


A glad look came into the doctor’s eyes as he 
took his friend’s hand. “ Monsieur, let me beg 
of you never to renew this discussion. Such 
words as you uttered a few moments ago only 
inflame the passions and sow seeds of discord. 
Our people are scattered as sheep without a 
shepherd. Those who professed the reform re- 
ligion are recanting by the score. I have thought 
this problem out in all its bearings, and there 
has been burned into my soul, by the iron of 
suffering, the one word — submission, in so far 
as such a course does not contravene the higher 
law of God.” 

My children,” said the gentle voice of Mad- 
ame Clement. Cease arguing, I entreat you. 
The apostle struck the keynote to the whole 
situation when he said, 'The weapons of our 
warfare are not carnal, but mighty through 
God.’ Have you forgotten the Heights of Cap- 
pel and the defeat of Zwingli’s cherished plan 
for the reformed church ? Too late he learned 
that ‘ Christians fight not with sword and ar- 
quebuse, but with sufferings and with the cross.’ 
Let us patiently endure as seeing Him who is 
invisible.” 

" Amen !” said the doctor. 

The captain arose and reverently carried 
Madame’s hand to his lips. 

" I shall have to leave you now,” said Dr. 


36 


PRO CHRISTO. 


Clement, “ as I have a patient who must be vis- 
ited before I retire.” 

“ I will accompany you part way,” replied 
the captain, rising and making his adieus. 

For one brief moment Mademoiselle Beatrice 
stood at the door beside him. 

“ I want to thank you for your brave words. 
Monsieur,” she said, lifting her starry eyes to his. 
“ I think cousin Paul asks too much of us !” 

“ I know of one, mademoiselle, whom I would 
gladly defend with the last drop of my blood,” 
said the captain, bending his head so that he 
could look into her eyes. 

*'You are my brave knight!” answered the 
maiden, while the wild-rose flush mantled cheek 
and brow. Their hands met in one long, linger- 
ing clasp. 

My love shall be your hiding-place from 
the storm, a sure covert from the howling tem- 
pest,” he whispered, and was gone before she 
could make answer. 


“ By the light of burning heretics 
Christ’s bleeding feet I track, 

Toiling up new Calvaries ever, 

With the cross that turned not back. 
And these mounts of anguish number 
How each generation learned 
One new word of that grand Credo, 
Which in prophet-hearts hath burned. 
Since the first man stood God-conquered, 
With his face to heaven upturned. 

Careless seems the great Avenger ; 

History’s pages but record 
One death-grapple in the darkness 
’Twixt old systems and the Word ; 
Truth for ever on the scaffold, 

Wrong for ever on the throne, 

Yet that scaffold sways the future. 

And behind the dim unknown 
Standeth God within the shadow. 
Keeping watch above His own.” 


LOWELL. 








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FAILURE. 


139 


CHAPTER XI. 

FAIL URE. 

The next few days were halcyon days to 
Beatrice Romaine. She visited the sick with 
Madame Clement; gathered herbs with Con- 
stance, for the doctor’s use ; took lessons in the 
art of making lace from Isabel ; or helped old 
Emilie, who was well versed in the mysteries of 
housewifery. 

Capt. Harcourt visited the cottage daily. He 
took his betrothed to the castle to see the mar- 
quis, and the old gentleman was charmed by 
her sunny smiles and cheerful conversation. He 
was especially delighted with her yoice, for Bea- 
trice could rival the birds in song. She sang the 
popular airs of the day, and at his request some 
old ballads dear to his heart. 

‘‘We must get out your mother’s lute and 
have it refitted,’* he said to his son. “ It will 
make me young again to hear its sweet tones 
accompanying mademoiselle’s voice.” 

The marquis, together with the captain, made 
a special trip to Nismes, to solicit the banker for 
the hand of his daughter in marriage. Monsieur 
Romaine was well pleased with the proposal. In 


140 


PRO CHRISTO. 


birth, worldly prospects, and personal attractions, 
Capt. Harcourt was worthy of the prize. 

“ My home is no longer a safe shelter for my 
little daughter,’’ he said with a deep sigh. “ Capt. 
Harcourt, as a commissioned officer in the king’s 
army, will be a far better protector for her than 
I. My steps are dogged by these Jesuits.” 

The marquis urged a speedy marriage, not 
only on account of the unsettled condition of the 
times, but because of the loneliness at the old 
castle. M. Romaine hesitated. His little Bea- 
trice was his sole treasure. At length he an- 
swered, 

“ I shall give my consent to an early mar- 
riage. It will be a comfort to me to know that 
my daughter is safe under your protection. God 
knows I have done everything to make my dar- 
ling happy. I thought to shield her by signing 
that fatal paper, but by so doing I lost her pres- 
ence from my home.” A tear rolled down the 
florid cheek, which was hastily brushed away. 

The young man took the banker’s hand, and 
said with emotion : 

“Your daughter shall be to me as the apple 
of mine eye. She is set as a seal upon my heart. 
I will cherish her, and defend her from every 
evil.” 

“You may tell Beatrice to remain under her 
aunt’s roof until her marriage,” said Monsieur 


FAILURE. 


141 

Romaine. “ I will see her all that I can in the 
meantime. I do not think Father Ignatius knows 
of her whereabouts. At any rate, she is safer 
in her mountain refuge than with me, and I 
know it will be a comfort to Armide to have her 
there. Beatrice was always Cecil’s pet. Poor 
Cecil?” 

As the captain and his father entered the 
coach, the banker came and touched the young 
man’s arm. 

“ You will always be good to her, Monsieur? ” 
he said, with a look of pathetic entreaty. 

The captain lifted his right hand, and said 
solemnly : She shall ever be as dear to me as 
my own soul ! ” 

The time had now arrived for Claude Brous- 
son’s famous project to be carried into effect. 
His plan was bold in its conception, and, for the 
most part, all the steps decided upon were taken 
advisedly. Sixteen delegates from the provinces 
of lower Languedoc, Dauphiny, Vivarais, and 
the C4vennes assembled in Toulouse at the 
house of Monsieur Brousson. This intensely 
bigoted, Roman-catholic city was chosen as a 
place of meeting, in order to avert suspicion, and 
the ruse succeeded. The delegates met in coun- 
cil, drew up the plan of action which we have 
described, and left the city without discovery. 
It was hoped that by re-opening the churches. 


142 


PRO CHRISTO, 


which had been closed by the king’s order, the 
monarch would see how sacredly the Huguenots 
regarded their religion, and it would prove to 
him that they were willing, if need be, to suffer 
in its behalf. 

The fatal Sunday arrived, bringing with it a 
dismal failure. Claude Brousson’s plan depended 
for its success on the concerted action of the 
Huguenots. Fear prevailed generally, and pru- 
dence got the better of valor. Only a few of 
the churches in the provinces mentioned were 
re-opened for worship. By far the larger part 
of the consistories refused to cooperate, fearing 
to offend the sovereign. Several of the Hugue- 
not churches in the provinces of Vivarais and 
Dauphiny carried out Monsieur Brousson’s plan, 
and these provinces were immediately subjected 
to the most pitiless butchery. The Huguenots 
at Bordeaux, learning that armed troops were 
approaching their town, gathered what weapons 
they could find, and prepared to defend them- 
selves. A short struggle ensued, but the Hu- 
guenots were speedily overcome. These raw 
recruits, although they fought desperately, could 
not compete with the veterans of the king’s 
army. They had plenty of courage, but discip- 
line won the day. Two hundred unfortunates, 
who had taken refuge in a barn, were burned 
alive, and the prisons were speedily filled with 


FAILURE. 


143 


Huguenots condemned to the gallows. A large 
number of ministers fled to Geneva ; and Claude 
Brousson, at the urgent entreaty of his friends, 
escaped to London. 

Two ministers were called upon to suffer 
martyrdom. Daniel Chamier, the great-grand- 
son of the famous pastor of the same name, 
was broken on the wheel in front of his pa- 
ternal mansion in Montelimart. His mother 
encouraged him to bear his sufferings with forti- 
tude. 

“ I have yet,” she said, “ three children whom 
I shall cheerfully give up, if they be called to 
die for religion’s sake.” 

The other martyr was Isaac Homel, a venera- 
ble minister of seventy-two years. For the crime 
of daring to preach the gospel on a spot for- 
bidden by Louis XIV., he was made to suffer 
the excruciating tortures which were reserved 
for vile malefactors. The executioner testified 
that he heard the loved psalms of Clement Marot 
and Theodore Beza floating in the air as the soul 
of this aged saint left his bruised and mangled 
body. 

Fulcrand Rey and the other pastors in the 
lower C^vennes had refused to take any part in 
this famous project, and for the present the 
storm cloud did not burst over the heads of our 
friends. 


44 


PRO CHRISTO. 


One afternoon in the early fall the happy 
young lovers were united. Monsieur Romaine 
greatly regretted that his daughter could not be 
married from the paternal home ; but as she 
insisted on having Monsieur Fulcrand Rey per- 
form the ceremony, it was deemed expedient 
that this service should take place at the par- 
sonage. Only the three families were present. 
The bride was lovely in her simple white gown, 
a cluster of brides’ roses in her hand. The 
groom looked like a youthful Apollo, and his 
countenance beamed with joy. The scene moved 
Monsieur Rey strangely. What did the future 
hold for these people so dear to his heart ? By 
what different paths were they to be led into that 
city whose builder and maker is God? Would 
the fires of persecution leave them unharmed in 
body and soul ? A presentiment of coming evil 
filled his mind with sadness. His mood was in- 
fectious, for when with quivering lips he lifted 
his hands and said, “ Let us pray,” there was 
not a dry eye in the room. 

The solemn words of the marriage service 
were soon uttered, and the bridal pair were over- 
whelmed with loving congratulations. After 
refreshments had been served, Madame Clement 
arrayed her young niece in her travelling suit, 
for Capt. Harcourt was to take Beatrice to 
Paris, there to pass the honeymoon. The last 


FAILURE. 


145 


good-byes were hurriedly said, and the coach 
with its precious freight was whirled rapidly out 
of sight. 

“ So strength and beauty hand in hand 
Went forth into the honeyed land, 

Led by the love-moon golden-grand." 


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Wekrefore drink with me, friends ! It is no draught 
Of red intoxication. At its brim 
No wine-wreathed head of Bacchus ever laughed 1 
This pilgrim cup of mine now worn and dried 
With Time’s rough usage ; no bright bubbles swim, 
Or foam-beads sparkle o’er. Have ye quaffed 
The waters clear that through green pastures glide. 
Where they who love the Shepherd follow Him ? 
Brimmed with His peace, my soul is satisfied ; 

Cooled are my feverish fancies, calmed the stir 
Of dreams whose end was only bitterness. 

Healed at this fount our inmost ail would be. 

Did we but health above disease prefer. 

My cup is filled at wells whose blessedness 
A world’s thirst cannot drain. Friends, drink with me !” 


LUCY LARCOM. 




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AT THE COURT OF LOUIS XIV. 


149 


CHAPTER XII. 

AT THE COURT OF LOUIS XIV. 

It was universally conceded that Versailles 
was the most beautiful city in the French king- 
dom. It was a city of residences, and within 
easy driving distance of Paris. The road thither 
was one broad avenue lined with elms. Its 
beauty consisted largely in its palatial edifices, 
public gardens, spacious squares, and shady ave- 
nues. The chief attraction was the palace on 
which Louis XIV. had spent enormous sums of 
money. It was at Versailles that the king held 
his court the larger part of the year. 

It was the evening of the celebrated f^te 
given by Louis in honor of the Spanish ambas- 
sador. The decorations were unusually gor- 
geous. In the Gallery of the King the columns 
were ornamented with gold serge on a back- 
ground of red and gold. The spacious halls 
glittered with mirrors and gilding; the walls 
were hung with rich tapestries and showy bro- 
cades ; the furnishings were quaint but grace- 
ful ; a large number of candelebra filled with 
lighted candles made the rooms a blaze of 
light. 

In front, on a raised dais, sat the king. He 


150 


PRO CHRISTO. 


was a handsome man, of medium height and 
admirable proportions. Desiring to appear taller, 
as was befitting a sovereign, he raised his stat- 
ure by wearing high-heeled shoes. He pos- 
sessed a magnificent head of brown, curly hair, 
which he wore in masses on his shoulders. His 
nose was well formed, his eyes large and blue, 
and his expression agreeable. Near him stood 
his body-guard, composed of one hundred Swiss, 
gorgeous in their uniforms of blue Spanish 
coats, laced with gold, and blue knee-breeches. 

The scene was one of splendor, gayety, and 
vice. Invisible musicians discoursed sweet mu- 
sic ; the air was heavy with the scent of flowers 
and perfumes : the clank of swords, “ the frou- 
frou of silk and lace,” the ceaseless chatter of 
human voices, the smiles and courtly saluta- 
tions, the endless round of empty ceremonies 
made the hours tedious. 

“ I am so tired, Roland,” said Beatrice Har- 
court, sinking upon a divan. “ Cannot we leave 
this wearisome place ?” 

“Yes, my love, just as soon as I pay my 
respects to the king. He would never forgive 
me if I departed without saluting him. We will 
go home to-morrow. Notice, my dear, the lady 
who is just approaching the king. It is Mad- 
ame de Maintenon !” 

Beatrice raised her eyes with a look of inter- 


AT THE COURT OF LOUIS XIV. 151 

est, to see the woman who at that moment ruled 
France, She saw a person of middle age, with 
stately figure, grave deportment, and a counte- 
nance which bore the remains of great beauty. 
As she drew near the king, the grand monarch 
ceased talking with 'the ambassador, and taking 
madame by the hand, seated her in a chair by 
his side. 

“ Now is my opportunity for addressing his 
majesty,’' whispered Roland. “ He seems to be 
alone just at present. I will come for you in a 
few moments.” 

The captain made his way through the 
crowd, and paused before the king. The eyes 
of the monarch brightened at the approach of 
his favorite. 

‘‘Good evening, captain!” he said in bland 
tones. “ I was afraid you were not going to 
honor us by your presence.” He held out his 
hand, which the young man, kneeling, pressed 
to his lips. 

“Is not this a magnificent spectacle!” con- 
tinued Louis, waving his hand towards the bril- 
liant assembly. 

“ Yes, sire !” replied the captain. A sigh in- 
voluntarily escaped him. The king gave the 
young man a searching look. 

“Something is troubling you. Where has 
my light-hearted captain gone. You know that 


152 


PRO CHRISTO. 


I cannot bear long faces about me. Speak out 
your thoughts !” 

Roland hesitated. 

“ I command you to speak,” said the king in 
imperious tones. 

“ Sire,” answered the captain, “ I was think- 
ing of the persecuted people in your realm, and 
the contrast between this gorgeous assembly 
and thousands of your majesty’s subjects to- 
night was too marked to be agreeable. Oh, sire, 
to think of the tremendous power which is vest- 
ed in one man ! I wonder that you are not 
overwhelmed at times !” 

A cloud gathered on the king’s brow. 
“ You are certainly a brave man, captain, to 
mention those rebels to me in terms of commis- 
eration.” 

“You forget, sire, that I simply obeyed your 
command. I should not have uttered those 
words in your presence had you not insisted on 
knowing my thoughts.” 

The cloud disappeared from the king’s face. 
Nothing pleased him more than to be reminded 
of the power which he exercised over his sub- 
jects. 

“ It is all right, captain. I like you none the 
less for your honesty. God knows there is pre- 
cious little of that virtue left at the court. By 
the way, where is the lovely Beatrice ?” 


AT THE COURT OF LOUIS XIV. 153 

“ She was feeling very fatigued, and I left 
her resting in one of the ante-rooms. She sent 
her humble regrets to your majesty, and prays 
that you will excuse her from remaining longer. 
I have also to announce to your majesty that 
the sudden illness of my father compels me to 
start for home in the morning.” 

“ This is most annoying,” replied the king, 
the clouds gathering about his brow. “ Next 
week comes my birthday, and I am about to 
celebrate that event by giving a hunting-party 
at Fontainebleau. Cannot you arrange it so as 
to be present ?” 

“ I shall certainly accept your gracious invi- 
tation, if my father’s illness is not serious.” 

Louis answered with his superb, though un- 
conscious egotism. “ Do not place too much 
dependence on what the physicians say. They 
contrive to thwart my plans, many times, by 
their representations. I presume your father 
will be all right in a few days,” and he smiled 
on his favorite. 

“ I sincerely hope so,” said the captain as he 
bade his majesty adieu. 

“What does your Solidity think of that 
young man?” said the king to Madame de Main- 
tenon. 

“ He has an attractive presence,” replied 
Madame; “but I understand he still clings to 


54 


PRO CHRISTO. 


the Huguenot religion. I am surprised that 
you have taken such a fancy to the fellow." 

“ I like him," replied Louis, '' because he is 
original and unspoiled as yet. He adores me, 
and yet is not afraid to tell me the truth. I 
mean to convert him before I get through with 
him. My confessor, Pere de la Chaise, told me 
only a few days age that he thought the young 
man would embrace the Catholic religion if he 
could be separated from Huguenot influences. 
Next week I shall offer him a flattering position 
at the court if he will renounce the Huguenot 
faith." 

“Those of your subjects, sire, who refuse to 
sacrifice their religion at your request, are not 
only disobedient and rebellious, but besotted 
with silly vanity. I doubt not the young man 
will accede to your wishes." 

The king listened, as if enchanted, to the 
words of Madame. She possessed a singularly 
melodious voice, which gave an added charm to 
the words of womanly shrewdness which often 
fell from her lips. 

A group of courtiers now approached to beg 
the king’s permission to erect an equestrian 
statue of the monarch in front of the palace. 
Louis was highly pleased with the request, 
which he immediately granted. Adulation was 
the food upon which he lived. His followers 


AT THE COURT OF LOUIS XIV. 


155 


lavished the grossest flattery upon him, and the 
king, in his self-conceit, felt that he deserved 
the admiration which was so freely bestowed. 
Nothing gratified him more than to have stat- 
ues and triumphal arches erected in his honor 
throughout the kingdom, and fawning inten- 
dants and municipalities vied with each other 
in rearing them. 

After a fine comedy and dancing, the king 
and Madame de Maintenon withdrew, which 
was a signal for the festivities to cease. 

Later in the evening P^re de la Chaise might 
have been seen talking earnestly to Madame de 
Maintenon in her private apartments. 

Daughter,” said the old priest, “ your ambi- 
tion has for its goal a throne. You aspire to be 
the wife of an illustrious monarch. Do you not 
know that this is considered a very unequal 
marriage ? The king’s children are strenuously 
opposed to it. This event can take place only 
on one condition : you must give me your oath 
that you will use your influence, which is un- 
bounded, to persuade the king to revoke the 
Edict of Nantes. You know the king belongs 
to the secret order of the Jesuits, and without 
our consent the marriage can never take place.” 

The shaft struck close home. There were 
two things about which madame felt extremely 
sensitive — her humble origin, and her marriage 


56 


PRO CHRISTO. 


with the comedian, Scarron. She replied in fal- 
tering tones, “ I know, father, that I am not a 
grandee ; I am simply a mushroom. But you 
exact a terrible price for my influence. You 
know that I do not approve of bloodshed.” 

“ I promise you, madame,” said the confessor, 
that there shall not be a single drop of blood 
spilled in this cause. Minister Louvois has said 
the same thing. Other methods will be adopted 
for converting these rebellious subjects, besides 
the sword.” 

“ The king has led such a dissolute life that I 
am anxious he should now earn the title which 
he wears of ‘Very Christian.’ To my mind 
there is nothing so desirable as irreproachable 
conduct.” 

“ He could not succeed better than by mak- 
ing his kingdom all Catholic,” replied the con- 
fessor eagerly. “ Throw your influence on the 
side of the church, madame, and you will never 
regret your action. What ! do you still hesi- 
tate ? Is it possible that you have a lingering 
attachment for that despised religion ?” 

“ Never !” cried Madame de Maintenon with 
vehemence. “ I will do as you desire, father.” 

The compact was then signed which was to 
inundate France in seas of blood. She, who be- 
gan life as the martyr of the Protestant religion, 
now pledged herself to become its scourge. 


AT THE COURT OF LOUIS XIV, 


157 


A few days later the monarch sent for mad- 
ame. She found the king indulging in a fit of 
the vapors. 

“ I want your advice,” he said, handing her 
a letter which he had received from Charles IL 
of England. It read as follows : 

“ Sire : 

“ I conjure you in the name of the Great 
Henry, whose precious blood circulates in both 
of our veins, to respect the Protestants whom he 
looked upon as his children. If, as it is reported, 
you wish to compel them to renounce their reli- 
gion under pain of banishment from your king- 
dom, I offer to them an asylum in that of Eng- 
land, where I will prove to them that I have the 
honor to be the grandson of the great Henry, 
by the protection which I shall afford to those 
who for so long a period fought with distinc- 
tion under his banner. The kings of France 
should swear on ascending the throne, never to 
suffer any Jesuit about their persons or in their 
families, since they were accused of cooperating 
in the assassination of Henry IV., and that they 
dare in the present day to insult him even in 
his tomb, by destroying his most cherished work. 
Listen, my brother and cousin, to the represen- 
tations of one of your nearest relatives, who 
loves you as a king and esteems you as his 
friend. Charles.” 


158 


PRO CHRISTO. 


“What shall I do about this matter, mad- 
ame,” said the king anxiously. 

“Sire, I would not let this epistle trouble 
me for a moment. It is written by one who 
fails to understand the situation. Your majesty 
is accomplishing a great work for the church, 
in converting these heretics. They will shine 
as so many jewels in the crown of your rejoic- 
ing. You have now but to put the finishing 
touch to your work by revoking the edict of 
Nantes. Even now there is not a courier who 
does not bring the joyful news of conversion by 
the thousands. Take courage, sire, and let no 
one hinder you in the fulfilment of your mis- 
sion. You have been appointed by God to ac- 
complish a magnificent work. ' He that con- 
verteth a sinner from the error of his way, shall 
save his soul from death, and hide a multitude 
of sins.’ ” 

Thus did madame soothe the wounded van- 
ity of the king, while at the same time she ut- 
tered respectful but firm admonitions. Daily 
the monarch grew more dependent upon her 
counsel. Step by step, this “ unfaithful Esther 
of her race ” advanced toward the goal of her 
ambition. 


Of all the thoughts of God that are 
Borne inward into souls afar. 

Along the Psalmist's music deep, 

Now tell me if there any is 
For gift or grace surpassing this : 

‘ He giveth his beloved sleep.' 

Oh, earth, so full of dreary noises ! 

Oh, men, with wailing in your voices I 
Oh, delved gold, the waller’s heap ! 

Oh, strife, oh, curse, that o’ er it fall ! 
God makes a silence through you all. 
And giveth his beloved sleep. 

‘Sleep soft, beloved !’ we sometimes say. 
But have no tune to charm away 
Sad dreams that through the eyelids creep. 
But never doleful dream again 
Shall break the happy slumber when 
‘ He giveth his beloved sleep !’” 


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CHAPTER XIII. 

REST AFTER TOIL. 

“ How sorry I am that we did not go directly 
to Beauclaire. We should have been happy 
there, and we could have comforted your father 
so much !” 

“ But you must remember, my love, that you 
were eager to see Paris and Versailles. I think 
we did wrong by remaining away from home so 
long. Let me see, we planned to stay only 
three months, and we have been gone nearly 
six. Your cousins made our stay so agreeable, 
and there was so much to see and enjoy, that I 
did not realize how the days and weeks were 
flying. But I am heartily sick of the court, and 
shall be glad to see Beauclaire. La Bruy^re was 
right when he said, ‘ The court does not make 
one happy, and it prevents one from being so 
anywhere else.’ ” 

The short February day was drawing to its 
close. The sky was gray and cold, and flakes of 
snow began to fall. The ground was piled with 
pure white drifts. A coach, drawn by two stout 
horses, slowly dragged its way up the steep 
mountain road. All at once the vehicle came 

II 


PRO CHRISTO. 


162 

to a sudden halt. The voice of the driver was 
heard in the familiar patois of his race, his tones 
full of energy and persuasion, and accentuated 
by the ominous crack of the whip. The horses 
sprang forward, but all to no purpose. Captain 
Harcourt opened the door of the coach and 
sprang out. 

“ Why, Jean, you clumsy fellow, what is the 
matter now?” he said impatiently. “You have 
tumbled us about for the last hour in reckless 
style. Cannot you drive more carefully?” 

“ I am doing the best I can. Monsieur le Cap- 
itaine, but the wheels have lodged in a drift, 
and the horses are so exhausted that we shall 
have to wait a bit. I will take a shovel and get 
some of the snow out. I think we are off the 
road a little.” 

“ Well, push along as fast as you can. Every 
moment is precious.” 

“Please God we will get to the castle as 
soon as possible,” said Jean, touching his cap 
respectfully. 

“ This delay is vexatious,” said the captain 
as he reentered the coach. “ I am afraid you 
will take cold,” he added, drawing the fur robes 
closer about the slight figure. 

“ Do not worry about me,” replied Beatrice 
cheerfully. “ Every step brings us nearer our 
home, and the thought gives me joy.” 


REST AFTER TOIL. 


163 


An hour later and the coach drew up before 
the castle door. The servants greeted their young 
master and his bride with unbounded delight. 

“ You are just in time, Monsieur,” said Marie, 
the old housekeeper, wiping her eyes. 

“What do you mean?” cried the captain. 
“ Is my father dying ?” 

“We fear so. Monsieur, and those vile priests 
are giving him no peace in his last hours.” 

With the words, “ Take care of my wife, Ma- 
rie, and see that she is made comfortable,” Ro- 
land bounded up the stairs and opened the door 
of the sick-chamber. The sight which met his 
indignant eyes he remembered to his dying 
day. On the bed lay the wasted figure of the 
old marquis, a look of patient suffering on his 
face. Beside him was Father Ignatius, repeat- 
ing the mass for the dying. With him were 
two curates, who made the responses and held 
up the crucifix before the sick man’s eyes. The 
reading ceased as the captain entered the room. 
The marquis opened his eyes. 

“ Thank God, my son has come at last !” he 
murmured. 

“ Your services are no longer needed,” said 
the captain, turning haughtily to the priests. 
“ I beg of you to retire and leave my father in 
peace.” 

“ We received our orders from the Intend- 


1 64 


PRO CHRISTO, 


ant,” replied Father Ignatius, “ which is equiva- 
lent to an order from the king. We have as 
much right to be here as you,” he added in an 
insolent tone. 

“ Do you dare address an officer of the king’s 
army in such language?” cried Roland, draw- 
ing his sword from its scabbard. “ Be gone, you 
vile hounds of the Sarbonne, before I forget that 
you are unarmed men !” 

With a frightful scowl of rage Father Igna- 
natius rose to obey. The two curates followed 
his example. 

“We shall meet again,” said the confessor 
significantly as he left the room. 

Roland deigned no reply, but sank on his 
knees by the bedside. 

“Oh, father, why did you not send for me 
before !” Sobs choked his utterance, and he 
wept like a child. 

“ Do not grieve so, my son,” said the mar- 
quis, placing his hand on the bowed head. “ ‘ He 
that dwelleth in the secret place of the Most 
High shall abide under the shadow of the Al- 
mighty.’ My enemies have done their worst, 
but God sent his angels to minister to my needs. 
‘ Because he hath set his love upon me, therefore 
will I deliver him.’ Do not weep for me. The 
desire of my heart is granted now that I look 
upon your face once more.” 


REST AFTER TOIL, 165 

The door opened, and Doctor Clement en- 
tered. After shaking hands with the young 
sieur, he administered a quieting draught to the 
sick man. While he slept they passed into an 
adjoining room. 

“Tell me allT’ said Roland, seating himself 
beside his friend. 

“ Perhaps you are ignorant of the fact,” said 
the doctor, “that within the last three months 
we have begun to feel the severities of the per- 
secution. The tiger that has crouched so long 
in ambush has finally sprung upon us with flam- 
ing eyes and bloody jaws. The dragonnades 
have reduced the province of Bearn to submis- 
sion. The torture to which these poor people 
were subjected was something terrible. The 
thumb-screw was applied to poor women, and 
they were compelled to hang for hours sus- 
pended from the rafters of their houses; the 
bastinado, with which the Turks delight to pun- 
ish their slaves, was employed to convert some. 
The savage Intendant, Michel de Marillac, has 
ordered the dragonnades to be quartered upon 
Poitiers. He has invented novel methods for 
the conversion of the heretics. Men, women, 
and children are thrown upon lighted fagots; 
or their feet are slowly roasted before a blaz- 
ing fire : or they are pinched and prodded to 
prevent them from sleeping ; or their heads are 


PRO CHRISTO. 


1 66 

thrust into hot ovens. The king sent word that 
he was well pleased at the number of conver- 
sions, and urged him to continue the same meth- 
ods which he had found so successful. No Hu- 
guenot is now allowed to die except a Roman- 
catholic priest is with him to the last, trying to 
force him to recant. Your father was taken ill 
three weeks ago. We were able to keep the 
matter secret for two weeks. In some way it 
reached the ears of the Intendant, and the priests 
have been worrying the marquis ever since.” 

“ Why did you let them trouble that noble 
soul? Was there no one among all whom he 
befriended to help him in his extremity ?” 

The doctor regarded his friend compassion- 
ately. 

“ I see you do not comprehend the difficulties 
in the way. My family was driven out of the 
cottage which we occupied, and we have been 
forced to find a refuge higher up the C^vennes. 
My profession was discovered, and I can now 
alleviate suffering only by stealth. I have done 
everything possible for my generous benefactor. 
During the absence of the priests I have made 
him visits daily since his sickness began.” 

“ Were the dragoons quartered at the cas- 
tle?” inquired Roland in hoarse tones. 

“Yes. A detachment of soldiers, armed to 
the teeth, and wearing the king’s livery, has 


REST AFTER TOIL, 167 

been quartered here for nearly a week. Last 
night, for some unknown reason, they were 
ordered away. They have kept your father 
from sleeping, with drums and horns, and they 
succeeded so well that the marquis' is dying 
from exhaustion. Every night the priests came 
to urge him to recant. They told him that his 
body should be flung into the common sewer 
after death if he did not yield to their entrea- 
ties. Your father continued firm and steadfast 
in the faith. He laid his commands upon us, 
which we have obeyed, even though our hearts 
bled to see him suffer. These were his words : 
‘ Offer no resistance ! Do no violence ! Let us 
be imitators of Him who when reviled, reviled 
not again. I thank my God that he has account- 
ed me worthy to suffer in his name.’ We sent 
for you just as soon as we could obtain his per- 
mission.” 

Roland sprang to his feet and paced the floor 
in great excitement. 

“ And is this the king whom I have adored, 
and whom I have served so faithfully these 
many years ? this base, selfish monster who re- 
pays his aged servant by threatening him with a 
grave in the city’s offal ? I will serve this monarch 
no longer,” and the captain tore the insignia of 
his rank from his bosom, and crushed it beneath 
his feet. He unloosened his sword from his 


PRO CHRISTO. 


1 68 

belt and laid it on the table. “ It shall never be 
raised again in the king’s service. I shall use it 
simply to defend my loved ones from the ruth- 
less hand of the destroyer.” 

“ It is true,” said the doctor, “ that the king 
orders this persecution of his subjects. When 
the dragoons came here their cry was, 'The 
king wills it !’ France has no longer any other 
law. The power of Louis XIV. is absolute. Yet 
I dare to reiterate to you that we must submit to 
the inevitable. We can either hide in the fast- 
nesses of the mountains, or we can take our lives 
in our hands and emigrate to more friendly 
countries. Resistance to the king’s authority 
within his domain is useless.” 

“ But I will resivSt to my latest breath,” said 
Roland hotly. “The Cevanols in my domain 
shall know the use of military weapons.” 

“ Did you not know, captain, that the use of 
firearms has been forbidden in the province of 
Languedoc? A half dozen muskets found in 
the castle would seal your doom. Try and con- 
trol your passion. You will gain nothing by 
kicking against the pricks.” 

“ My son,” said the marquis in faint but clear 
tones. The captain and his friend hastened to 
the bedside. 

“ My hour has come,” said the old man. “ I 
feel that I am dying.” 


REST AFTER TOIL, 


169 

The doctor touched the fluttering pulse and 
silently bowed his head, as he met Roland’s 
anxious eye. While the marquis slept an angel 
had “gently loosened the cords of the frail 
tabernacle, and the tent fluttered to every 
breeze.” 

“ Call my little daughter. I would give her 
my blessing ere I go.” 

Beatrice came into the room leaning bn her 
husband’s arm, and weeping bitterly. The hot 
tears dropped from the captain’s eyes as he took 
his father’s hand. 

“ Weep not for me, my children ! but rather 
rejoice that your father’s work is done, and his 
travelling days over. He is going home to- 
night — to the many mansions which our Saviour 
died to prepare for all who love and serve him. 
God comfort you and bless you, my children, 
and be to you the Father of the fatherless. My 
son, seek not to avenge my wrongs. Let the 
spirit and prayer of the crucified One be yours, 

‘ Forgive them, for they know not what they do.’ 
And you, son of my best earthly friend, let your 
loins be girded and your lamp trimmed alway, 
for the Bridegroom cometh quickly. May we all 
meet at last, not one missing, where there is no 
more parting and no more persecution, in our 
Father’s house. Little daughter, read to me the 
psalm I love.” 


170 


PRO CHRISTO. 


Beatrice read in faltering tones those words, 
so strong, so tender : 

“ The Lord my shepherd is : I shall not want : 

He leads me in green pastures, and beside 
Still waters ; and restores my soul to tread, 

For his name’s sake, the paths of righteousness. 

Yea, though I walk the shadowy vale of death 
I fear not ; thou art with me ; and thy crook 
It comforts me. My table is prepared 
In presence of mine enemies ; my head 
Thou, Lord, anointest ; and my cup o’erflows. 

Goodness and mercy shall attend my steps, 

And in thy house I shall for ever dwell.” 

A smile lighted up the wayworn features 
of the old marquis — one sob, one effort, and his 
spirit was with God. 

The young surgeon reverently closed the 
sightless eyes. 

‘ Sleepe after toyle, port after stormie seas. 

Ease after warre.” 

Of a truth there is laid up for this Christian war- 
rior, “ a crown of righteousness, which the Lord 
the righteous Judge shall give him in that day.’' 


^‘Not thine the bigot’s partial plea, 

Not thine the zealot's ban ; 

Thou well canst spare a love of Thee 
Which ends in hate of man." 

WHITTIER. 

“ Thus men go wrong with an ingenious skill ; 
Bend the straight rule to their own crooked will ; 
And with a clear and shining light supplied, 

First put it out, then take it as a guide. 


COWPER. 


i 


THE JESUIT'S REVENGE. 


173 


CHAPTER XIV. 

THE JESUITS REVENGE. 

Doctor Clement retired from the chamber, 
and for a brief time allowed those bereaved 
hearts the relief of tears. Then he reentered 
the room, and laid his hand firmly on the new 
lord’s shoulder. 

My friend, there is no time to be lost. If 
you would not see this tenement of clay desecra- 
ted, it must be laid to rest before morning. I 
will go and make all necessary arrangements.” 

Beatrice begged with tears to be allowed 
to accompany her husband to the burial, but the 
young lord was firm in his refusal. 

Do not add to my sorrow, beloved, by im- 
perilling your life in this rash way. Remember 
I have only you to comfort me.” 

Just before dawn a group of sincere mourn- 
ers gathered in the glen about the new-made 
grave of the beloved marquis. 

Very solemn sounded the voice of the pastor, 
as it rose upon the still air. 

“ Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord 
from henceforth: Yea, saith the Spirit, that 
they may rest from their labors and their works 
do follow them. . . . And God shall wipe away 


74 


PRO CHRISTO. 


all tears from their eyes, and there shall be 
no more death, neither sorrow nor crying, nei- 
ther shall there be any more pain. And there 
shall be no night there, for the Lord God giveth 
them light, and they shall reign for ever and 
ever.” After a brief prayer, the sweet voices 
of Constance Clement and Isabel Paulet were 
raised in one of Beza’s psalms. The chant rose 
and fell in mournful cadences, and many a sob 
testified to the grief that was wringing the hearts 
of this faithful little band. The grave was im- 
mediately covered, and all traces of the recent 
burial were obliterated. 

The new marquis roused at last from the 
stupor which had locked his senses, and spoke a 
few words to the devoted peasants who had braved 
danger to pay their last respects to the dead. 

My friends, this has been a sad home-com- 
ing. I shall never forget your kindness and 
faithfulness in this trying hour. Count upon 
me always as your friend and brother. This is 
not the time nor place to discuss the wrongs 
committed against the dead, but I would have 
you know one thing — I wear no longer the 
king’s livery.” He threw aside his large cape 
and revealed beneath it a plain citizen’s suit. 
“ I fully sympathize with you in your trouble, 
and hope that you will feel free to call upon me 
when you need assistance.” 


THE JESUITS REVENGE, 175 

A low murmur of approval rose from the lit- 
tle group. 

Dr. Clement watched anxiously the eviden- 
ces of approaching dawn. “ Had you not bet- 
ter tell the people to disperse?” he said in low 
tones to the marquis. “ Every moment that we 
linger here is dangerous. It is now no rare oc- 
currence for the dead bodies of Huguenots to 
be exhumed, and after being dragged through 
the streets on a hurdle, cast into the sewer. 
Let us not endanger these precious remains by 
lingering longer.” 

“You are right,” answered the marquis. 
“ My good friends,” he continued, “ retire at once 
to your homes. I thank you for honoring the 
dead.” The peasants obeyed. The new lord 
then turned and grasped M. Key’s hand. His 
lips trembled with emotion as he said, “ The 
last time I saw your face you made the sweetest 
treasure in the world mine. To-day you say 
comforting words over the grave of my be- 
loved dead. Twice you have braved danger 
for my sake. I owe you more than I can ever 
repay.” 

“ Nay !” replied M. Key, a smile illuminat- 
ing his face ; “ you owe me nothing. Silver and 
gold have I none, but such as I have give I to 
thee freely. It is a rare pleasure for me to be 
able to serve the son of my departed friend. 


176 


PRO CHRISTO, 


For the one who has gone home we have no 
need to grieve, but rather for the terror-stricken 
church of God.” 

“Will you not return to the castle with me ?” 
said Roland to Dr. Clement and his mother. 
“ It is a long walk to your new home, and you 
must feel the need of some refreshment.” 

Madame shook her head. 

“Thanks, kind friend,” replied the doctor. 
“ It is not wise for us to be seen very often at 
your home. The Intendant is very suspicious 
of plots, and when several Huguenots are seen 
together arrests are sure to follow. We will 
come, however, as soon as possible.” 

The marquis slowly wended his way, alone, 
to his home. His young wife saw him coming 
and ran out into the hall to meet him. She 
drew an easy-chair before the huge open fire, 
and with her own hands helped him into his 
dressing-gown and slippers. Then she leaned 
over him and kissed him tenderly many times. 

“ My precious comforter !” he exclaimed, tak- 
ing her in his arms and lavishing upon her 
many a tender caress. “ How can I repine 
when I have your sweet love to uphold and sus- 
tain me? To-day for the first time since we 
were married I have had misgivings as to the 
future. I do not feel so sure that I can protect 
you from danger. The storm clouds are over 


THE JESUITS REVENGE. 


177 


our heads, and the tempest is liable to burst 
upon us at any moment. Persecution is follow- 
ing close upon the heels of sorrow. Are you 
afraid to trust your life to my keeping ?” 

“ Never !” cried Beatrice passionately. “ By 
your side, my husband, I fear nothing. You 
are like the granite boulder and I am as one of 
the tiny waves that lave its rough edges. All I 
want is to feel the touch of your hand and see 
your face. Then I can bid the world defiance.” 

Then did these two loving hearts cherish 
the vain delusion that their mutual affection 
and confidence in each other would somehow 
avert the storm. 

Spring came at last. She seemed a veritable 
coquette, so long did she delay her coming, so 
long did she trifle with the fond anticipations of 
the heart. She was heralded by days of cold 
sleet ; occasional hours of pale sunshine ; chilly 
southwest winds ; a tint of green on the wood- 
land mosses ; a swelling of buds in the trees ; 
the opening flowers, the tender blush of the 
eglantine, and the songs of birds. Immediately 
after his father’s death the young marquis had 
resigned his commission as officer in the king’s 
army. The events of the last few months had 
changed the gay careless youth into a man, 
whose face wore a hard, tense expression, and 
who daily grew more and more reserved. 


2 


178 


PRO CHRISTO. 


One night, at his request, there was a gen- 
eral assembling of the peasants at the castle. 
About one hundred men reported. Their 
swarthy faces wore a look of intense interest. 
The young lord addressed them : 

“ My friends, I have asked you here to-night 
to discuss our situation. The latest reports from 
Paris tell us that the king has been secretly 
married to Madame de Maintenon. You know 
what that means, as well as I. A year will not 
roll over our heads before the Edict of Nantes 
will be revoked. In the past Madame has been 
free to show her hand. For this she has been 
plotting. She has made the king believe that 
as long as there is a single unconverted Hugue- 
not on the soil of France, his sins will not be 
forgiven. ‘ There is not a courier,’ she writes a 
friend ’ who does not bring the king great cause 
for joy, that is to say conversions by the thou- 
sands. I can quite believe that all these con- 
versions are not sincere, but God makes use of 
all ways of bringing back heretics.’ And what 
does the Duke of Noailles write to Louvois? 
‘ The towns of Alais, Uzes, Villeneuve, Bearn, 
and some others are entirely converted. Those 
of most note in Alais made abjuration in church 
the day after our arrival. There was then a 
lukewarmness, but matters were put in good 
train again by means of some billets that I had 


THE JESUIT'S REVENGE, 


179 


put into the houses of the most obstinate. I 
am making arrangements for going and scour- 
ing the Cevennes with the seven companies of 
Barbezieux, and my head shall answer for it 
that before December not a Huguenot shall be 
left there.’ Shall we submit tamely to the dic- 
tates of Frances Scarron? Shall we bend our 
necks to the tyrant Noailles? Shall the insults 
offered to my sainted father and to hundreds of 
others go unavenged ?” 

From a hundred throats came the reply like 
the roar of an angry sea, 

Nay ! but they shall be avenged !” 

‘‘ I do not intend to defy the king’s authori- 
ty,” continued the marquis, “ I simply urge you 
to do what I shall do to my latest breath — defend 
my hearth-stone from the approaches of the en- 
emy. I know that the use of firearms has been 
forbidden in the province of Languedoc, but in 
my cellar are stored arms and ammunition. 
The time may come when we shall need to 
unite our forces in order to make our resistance 
more effectual. If you are willing to come to 
the castle in divisions of not more than twenty- 
five, I will teach you some military tactics. 
Above all be secret. I trust to your honor and 
to the prosperity of our common cause, not 
to betray me. 

“ We will die first !” answered the men as 


i8o PRO CHRISTO. 

they crowded about their young leader, and 
uttered words of affection and gratitude. It 
was decided that these meetings should take 
place twice a week. The spacious cellars of the 
old castle would afford an admirable place in 
which to drill the recruits. 

Faithful Jean Rohan came to the Marquis 
after the company had dispersed, and said, depre- 
catingly, “ I do not like to be a croaking raven, 
but I mistrust the looks of that young man who 
enrolled himself as Jaoques Conde. He is a 
stranger in these parts, and has hired himself 
out to one of the farmers for the summer. May- 
hap he is all right. But I cannot help the feel- 
ing that he is sent to spy on us.” 

“ I think you are mistaken this time, Jean,” 
said the Marquis. “ I was quite favorably im- 
pressed with the young man’s appearance. He 
is a Cevanol, and I do not believe one of our 
own men would basely betray us. You are 
over anxious on my account,” he added, placing 
his hand kindly on the servant’s shoulder. A 
look of affection shone in Jean’s eyes. “ Master,” 
he said, “ I would lay down my life for you. 
Have you not done everything for me and 
mine !” 

“ Nonsense !” replied the marquis. “ That 
was nothing. Any man in my place would have 
done the same. Pray dismiss your fears, and 


THE JES UIT 'S RE FENCE. 1 8 1 

mind, none of this to my lady ! I do not want 
her needlessly alarmed.” 

There was great grief in the Clement house- 
hold at the bold stand taken by the young 
lord. “ He is making the greatest mistake of 
his life, by pursuing this policy,” said Paul. 
“ I would plead with him again if it were of 
any use, but he refuses to listen to my argu- 
ments.” 

“ He will not refuse to listen to me,” said 
Madame Clement. “ I will go to him, and if 
necessary plead with him on my knees, to re- 
member his dying father’s last injunction.” 

It was a dark, rainy night, and the marquis 
and his young wife were enjoying a quiet tete- 
a-t^te before a cheerful open fire. A tap sounded 
on the door, and the housekeeper announced 
that Madame Clement was below, and desired 
speech with the marquis. 

“ Show her up immediately, Marie. It must 
be something important which would call her 
out this stormy night.” 

The pastor’s wife told her errand in sweet, 
serious tones. 

“ My lord, at the risk of offending you, I 
have come to warn you against the course you 
have adopted with the peasantry. It can end in 
nothing but useless bloodshed. If you are be- 
trayed, your death warrant is signed. Will you 


i 82 


PRO CHRISTO. 


not abandon this idea of resistance ? Will you 
not bid the peasants disband, and remain quietly 
in the hamlet ? Why do you shake your head ? 
See ! I beg of you on my knees !” and the white- 
haired woman knelt before the marquis. “ For 
your father’s sake, who bade you leave ven- 
geance in the hands of a righteous Judge, I 
entreat you to heed my appeal.” 

“ Rise, my honored friend,” said the marquis, 
lifting Madame from her lowly position, and 
placing her in a chair. “ It grieves me to refuse 
your petition, but my conscience forbids me to 
act as you desire. ‘ Peace is beautiful, but 
Truth is sacred.’ My motto is ‘ Tienta foi !’ I 
can only keep my faith by defending those 
whom God has entrusted to my care. I would 
give the last drop of my blood to shield my 
little wife from harm, and she knows full well 
that no calamity will befall her until it has first 
overwhelmed me.” 

Madame glanced at Beatrice, but when she 
saw the look of pride and affection with which 
she raised her eyes to her husband’s face, she 
realized that any appeal here would avail noth- 
ing. “ I would that your motto, my noble friend, 
were ‘ Pro Christo.’ The followers of the Son 
of God have no need for swords and muskets. 
Those who fight with the sword, perish by the 
sword. I am exceedingly sorry that my mis- 


THE JESUIT'S REVENGE. 183 

sion has failed.” With a sigh madame arose to 

go. 

“ Let me send Jean to see you safely home,” 
said the marquis. 

“ There is no need, my lord. Paul is waiting 
for me at the first turn in the road. God bless 
and keep you both in the hollow of his hand. 
Good night !” 

The days passed swiftly. Beatrice regained 
her elasticity of step, and her buoyant spirits. 
Thoughts of danger were forgotten. Even the 
dreaded lettre de cachet, which she had feared 
would follow closely upon her husband’s resig- 
nation, was banished from her mind. There 
was a lull in the tempest which had swept over 
the Huguenots of France. One evening at the 
regular time for the drill, quite a number of the 
peasants failed to respond at the roll-call. Jean 
Rohan noticed with consternation that Jacques 
Conde’s seat was vacant. This young man had 
taken such an active part in the mimic warfare, 
that his absence was conspicuous. The mar- 
quis was not a little disturbed, but proceeded 
as usual. The drill he purposely shortened, 
and sent the men home earlier than usual. 

“ What is the meaning of this, Jean ?” he 
said, as the gates were closed and locked for the 
night. 

“ I fear we are betrayed. Master. If so, your 


84 


PRO CHRISTO. 


life is in danger. I beg of you to flee at once, 
and I will take good care of Madame and bring 
her to you in safety.” 

Do not speak to a French soldier of danger 
and of flight,” said the marquis sternly. I am 
willing to abide by the results of my action. 
Perhaps we are unnecessarily alarmed.” 

As if to belie his words, there came a loud 
knock at the gates. 

“ Who ’s there ?” cried the porter. 

“ Open, in the king’s name !” was the an- 
vSwer. 

“ Oh, master,” said Jean wringing his hands, 
“ let me save you. For her sweet sake in yon- 
der room, let me hide you for one short hour.” 

Silence, Jean !” said the marquis. “ Know 
you not that my wife would despise a coward ? 
She is a courageous woman, and she encouraged 
me to take these risks for the sake of our reli- 
gion. Go ! and if anything happens to me, take 
care of your mistress. Get Mademoiselle Paulet 
to come and stay with her for a time. She is 
thoroughly capable and reliable. She will cheer 
my lady’s heart.” 

The heavy tread of soldiers was heard on 
the stairs. The frightened face of Beatrice ap- 
peared at the door. The marquis entered the 
room and placed his arm around her. 

“ My darling, be brave ! You know we have 


THE JESUIT'S REVENGE. 185 

not been wholly unprepared for this. Give me 
a heart of steel in this trying hour.” 

Beatrice lifted her head from her husband’s 
shoulder, and although she was pale as death 
she replied in firm tones, “ I will help you, my 
husband !” 

A knock on the door was immediately an- 
swered by the marquis. On the threshold stood 
Father Ignatius and Gen. Vauban. 

“We meet again, M. le Capitaine,” said the 
priest with a sneer. The marquis deigned no 
reply. 

“ I am exceedingly sorry, M. Harcourt, to 
have been commissioned to arrest you,” said the 
officer. 

“ On what charge ?” demanded the young 
lord. 

“ For uttering treasonable words against the 
king, and for endeavoring to incite an insurrec- 
tion. These are grave charges, M. le Marquis.” 

“ They will have to be proven first,” replied 
the young man. 

“ Jacques Conde will be a valuable witness 
at your trial,” remarked the priest with a gleam 
of triumph in his eyes. Then the marquis 
knew that the secrets of the cellar had been be- 
trayed by the very man whom Jean Rohan had 
doubted. 

“You will go with us at once, M. Harcourt,” 


PRO CHRISTO. 


1 86 

said the general. “I shall be compelled to ask 
you for your sword. Give me your word of 
honor that you will make no attempt to escape, 
and you shall be spared the indignities custom- 
ary on these occasions.” 

“ I give you my word, monsieur, that no 
such attempts shall be made. Permit me to bid 
my wife adieu, and I will then be ready.” 

He took Beatrice by the hand and led her 
into an adjoining room. 

“ Take me with you, Roland,” cried the poor 
girl, her forced composure giving way under 
the terrible strain. I am afraid of nothing but 
separation from you. Let me share your im- 
prisonment.” 

“ It cannot be, my wife. I must leave you ; 
but, please God, it will not be for long. I have 
influential friends, and they will do all they can 
for me. Be brave ! Do not unman me by your 
tears.” 

With a mighty effort Beatrice controlled her 
emotion. With one last passionate embrace 
and a fervent “ God bless you,” the marquis re- 
entered the room. 

“ I am ready, Gen. Vauban,” he said donning 
his hat and cape. His horse had been saddled 
and was awaiting his master in the courtyard. 
The soldiers closed about their prisoner, and 
the party moved slowly through the gates. One 


THE JESUIT'S REVENGE. 187 

more look at the old castle with its noble front 
and its battlemented towers ; one more look at 
the sweet face pressed close to the window- 
pane ; one last lingering look, such as those 
give who are borne away in ships to some for- 
eign port, and who bid a last farewell to the 
friends who stay behind, and the castle was 
lost to sight. 

About a mile from Beauclaire the road wound 
through a small forest. As the little party en- 
tered the woods, they were attacked unexpect- 
edly. The faithful Jean had formed a rescuing 
party, and the peasants fought like tigers to 
secure their master’s freedom ; but they failed 
in the attempt. The soldiers discharged their 
muskets, and putting spurs to their horses 
carried their prisoner beyond the reach of 
friendly aid. There were several men severely 
wounded on both sides, but fortunately none 
were killed. 

‘‘ I am sorry for this incident,” said the offi- 
cer to his prisoner. “ It will make it all the 
harder for you. The king has a terror for any- 
thing which savors of insubordination, and he 
crushes it wherever he finds it.” 

** I am sorry too,” replied the marquis. “ I 
had no idea my peasantry would attempt any- 
thing of the kind.” 

In the meantime, Jean Rohan, much discom- 


PRO CHRISTO. 


1 88 

fited by she failure of his expedition, separated 
from his companions and retraced his steps to 
the castle. Then he remembered the parting 
injunctions of his master, and hastened up the 
mountain-side to the humble abode of the Clem- 
ents. His sad story was soon told. 

“We will go with you immediately,” said 
Dr. Clement. 

“ Poor lamb,” added his mother, “ she is 
drinking the cup of sorrow to its bitter dregs !” 

“ Let me come with you,” pleaded Isabel. 
“ It may be that Beatrice would like me to re- 
main with her for a little time. I should be so 
glad to comfort her.” 

A quiet approbation shone in Dr. Clement’s 
eyes at these words. 

“ Come, by all means,” he replied. 


“And as feeble babes that suffer, 

Toss, and cry, and will not rest, 

Are the ones the tender mother 
Holds the closest, loves the best. 

So when we are weak and wretched. 

By our sins weighed down, distressed, 
Then it is that God’s great patience 
Holds us closest, loves us best. 

“Oh, great heart of God ! whose loving 
Cannot hindered be nor crossed ; 

Will not weary, will not even 
In our death itself be lost ! 

Love divine ! of such great loving 
Only mothers know the cost — 

Cost of love, which, all love passing. 
Gave a Son to save the lost.” 


SAXE HOLM. 


LEARNING IN GOD ’S SCHOOL. 


191 


CHAPTER XV. 

LEARNING IN GOD'S SCHOOL. 

“Alas, alas !” said the old house-keeper when 
they reached the castle. “ Dark days have come 
to this house. My poor mistress does nothing 
but wring her hands and take on in a pitiful 
way for my lord. I am so glad that you have 
come. Mayhap you can comfort her a bit.” 

The young wife was nearly crazed with 
grief. When she caught sight of Madame 
Clement she shrieked and put her hands be- 
fore her face. “ Do not come here to tell me 
that God is over all and that he doeth all 
things well. I will not hear it. It may be a 
comfort to you, but it is none to me.” 

“ Leave her for a time, mother, with Isabel 
and me,” said the doctor. “ She will be quieter 
soon.” 

“ Poor stricken lamb,” said Isabel, tenderly 
stroking the glossy hair. The flood-gates were 
opened and sobs shook the slight frame. 

“Thank God, she is saved!” said Paul. 

By degrees she grew calmer, although she 
was still laboring under great excitement. 

“ What can we do for Roland ?” she said^ 
addressing her cousin. “ Let us not waste a mo* 


192 


PRO CHRISTO. 


ment. How can I sit here quietly unless I know 
that something is being done to save him ?” 

“You might send for your father,” replied 
the doctor hesitatingly. “ Since his recantation 
he may have influence with Father Ignatius ; or 
you might yourself see Abbe F^nelon. His 
judgments are treated with respect. Possibly 
the Intendant would be moved to compassion at 
the sight of your distress.” 

“ I will try all these means,” said Beatrice. 
“ Please have father sent for immediately, and 
tell Jean to have the coach and horses ready for 
me early in the morning. I will see the good 
Ahh6. As you say, he has unbounded influence. 
I will beg the Intendant on my knees, to grant 
my husband’s release. He will not say me nay. 
Oh, I feel sure that Roland will be set at liberty 
soon.” 

No one was cruel enough to dampen her ar- 
dor, and at last she was persuaded to take some 
nourishment, and seek repose. 

How often is it true that 

“ The best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men 
Gang aft a-gley, 

And leave us naught but grief and pain 
For promised joy.” 

At daybreak the young mother, white as the 
snowdrifts, lay unconscious on her couch, the 
wailing cry of a feeble infant adding the last 


LEARNING IN GOD'S SCHOOL. 


193 


Stroke to the sad picture. No one thought now 
about rescuing the marquis. Every effort cen- 
tred on the young life which lay trembling in 
the balance. 

“ It would be a mercy if she never regained 
consciousness,” said M. Romaine to Madame 
Clement late the next day. 

“ Whatever comes to Beatrice will be for her 
best good,” was the quiet answer. “ She is in 
the hands of a loving Father, and He makes no 
mistakes.” 


“ What though to-day 

Thou canst not trace at all the hidden reason 
For his strange dealings, through the trial season 
Trust and obey ! 

Though God’s cloud-mystery enfold thee here 
In after life and light all shall be plain and clear.” 

It was many weeks before Beatrice awoke to 
the full realization of her grief. Madame Clem- 
ent had been obliged to return to the cave, but 
Isabel and old Marie took turns caring for the 
invalid, and the doctor came daily to visit his 
patient, at times when his visits would not be 
observed. It was deemed wise for Mademoi- 
selle Paulet to wear a disguise, and in the white 
cap and smooth white hair beneath, and a pair 
of spectacles, she was the picture of an old, dig- 
nified bonne. 

M. Romaine urged his daughter to return 

13 


194 


PRO CHRISTO. 


home with him, but so far she had stoutly re- 
fused. 

‘‘ I am sure Roland would prefer me to stay 
here,” was her invariable reply. She took little 
interest in anything, since the terrible news 
reached her that her husband had been tried, 
and was confined in the impregnable fortress 
Tour de Constance, at Aigues Mortes, under sen- 
tence of death. All efforts on his behalf had 
proven unavailing. Even permission to see his 
friends had been denied him. The Abb^ F^ne- 
lon ventured into the king’s presence to plead 
for the life of this Huguenot rebel, and had been 
coldly repulsed. The selfish, egotistical mon- 
arch had no kind thoughts for his quondam 
favorite, who had wilfully forsaken his court. 
He sat caressing his spaniel or gambling at 
cards, while his subjects were suffering horrible 
tortures at his instigation. Madame de Mainte- 
non regarded the Ahh6 with open contempt, and 
upbraided him on his liberal tendencies. 

'‘You have too much heart, M. le Abb6,” said 
one of his colleagues. “ In our profession none 
is needed.” 

“ So much the worse for our profession,” was 
the curt reply. 

In the glen, the grass under which slept the 
old marquis, was starred with daisies and prim- 
roses. Beatrice sat in her accustomed chair by 


LEARNING IN GOD'S SCHOOL, 


195 


the window, where she had last seen her hus- 
band. Her face was pale and thin. Heavy cir- 
cles were around the eyes, once so bright and so 
full of mirth. The slight figure drooped, and 
her hands were folded listlessly in her lap. She 
looked like one on whom despair had laid its 
grim hand. 

M. Romaine entered the room noiselessly, 
and stood gazing at the pitiful sight. 

His slumbering conscience awoke, and re- 
morse gnawed at his vitals. Was it for this that 
he had made shipwreck of his faith ? Vain had 
been his efforts to shield his darling from perse- 
cution. There she sat, like a rose of yesterday, 
its bloom faded and its petals drooping. He 
had sought her happiness in wedding her to 
the young Huguenot noble ; but she was misera- 
ble. His sacrifice had not brought happiness to 
his child. He had recanted, and thereby lost all 
he had hoped to gain, and his peace of conscience 
beside. Before his vision rose the foul cell of 
Cecil Clement, and the face of the pastor as he 
had last seen it, transfigured by his love for 
Christ. To him, 

“ A Father’s smile outweighed earth’s myriad powers * 

A Saviour’s love was country, kith and home.” 

Then Mr. Romaine realized in a dim way, that 
somehow he had missed the highest and best 


196 


PRO CHRISTO. 


in life ; that in seeking to save his life he had 
lost the real, true life of the soul. He groaned 
aloud. 

Beatrice turned her sad eyes to meet her fa- 
ther’s sorrowful gaze, but no emotion stirred her 
soul. The fount of her tears was dried, and 
nothing seemed to rouse her from her stony 
apathy. 

Please go away, father, and leave me alone,” 
she said in a cold, mechanical manner. If you 
only knew how I longed for solitude, you would 
not keep troubling me by your presence.” 

M. Romaine stooped and kissed her brow, 
and then went away and wept bitterly. Was he 
to lose the love of his daughter withal ? A hand 
was laid on his shoulder, and Isabel looked at 
him with pitying eyes. 

“ Do not be discouraged, M. Romaine, Bea- 
trice will feel differently by and by. You must 
let time heal the wound, before you probe it. 
She will one day be able to respond to your 
words of sympathy, but not now.” 

“ God grant it may be so !” replied the banker. 

‘‘ Beatrice,” said Dr. Clement a few weeks 
later, “ your baby is not well. You are confin- 
ing yourself so closely to your apartments that 
your strength is flagging, and consequently baby 
Rosalie suffers. You are now able to walk about 
the park every pleasant day. It would do your 


LEARNING IN GOD 'S SCHOOL. 1 97 

baby a world of good, if you would take more 
exercise in the open air.” 

These words had a wholesome influence on 
the young mother. Hitherto she had appeared 
indifferent to her child, taking it only when it 
needed nourishment. But at the first intimation 
that the baby was ill, all the love of a mother’s 
heart awoke to life. With more animation than 
she had exhibited since her trouble, she asked 
Isabel to bring her babe, and when it was laid 
across her knee, she looked at it earnestly. It 
was a frail, tender bud, with a mournful look in 
its dark eyes. 

“ My precious baby,” cried Beatrice, straining 
it to her heart. Are you going to leave me 
too ? I will not be so selfish any longer. I will 
live to care for you !” 

After this the young mother walked daily in 
the park, and her health as well as that of the 
child began to mend. 

In the early summer a stranger appeared at 
the castle, accompained by Father Ignatius. He 
announced himself as M. le Tellier, a distant 
cousin of Roland Harcourt, and the next of kin. 
Madame Beatrice received her guests with some 
haughtiness, which the priest observed. 

“ Madame is not very hospitable,” comment- 
ed the father. She does not invite Monsieur 
Tellier to remain.” 


198 


PRO CHRISTO. 


“ I receive no guests during my husband’s 
enforced absence,” replied the young wife icily. 

“ I suppose you know that Monsieur is now 
the marquis of Beauclaire,” answered the priest. 
‘‘ He can hardly be called a guest in his own 
establishment.” 

Beatrice turned pale. “ I was not aware of 
my husband’s death,” she faltered. 

“ He is dead according to the law,” replied 
the Jesuit. “The estates of heretics are con- 
fiscated by the crown, and our gracious sovereign 
disposes of them to faithful Catholics. M. le 
Tellier was made marquis of Beauclaire a few 
days ago.” 

“ I will remove my effects to my father’s 
house, just as speedily as possible,” said Beatrice 
proudly. “ I have no desire to remain here 
longer.” 

“ Do not fret yourself unnecessarily, my fair 
kinswoman,” said Monsieur in oily tones. “ Re- 
main here so long as it is your pleasure. I 
certainly should feel troubled to have you in- 
convenienced in the least.” 

“ Your babe is growing finely,” said father 
Ignatius, bending over the cradle, and looking 
. at the child who lay in rosy dimpled slumber. 

Beatrice put out her hands as if to ward off a 
blow. 

“ Perhaps Madame does not know,” continued 


LEARNING IN GOD 'S SCHOOL. 


199 


the priest, with a terrible smile, “ that the same 
law which allows us to seize these estates, em- 
powers us to take the person of Rosalie Harcourt. 
She will be placed in the Convent of St. Cyr, 
where the nuns will instruct her in our holy 
faith. The children of Huguenots will at least 
be catholic, for their outward reunion places 
them within reach of the truth.” 

“ Mercy ! mercy ! Father Ignatius,” cried Bea- 
trice, sinking on her knees before the confessor. 

Spare me my child ! You cannot be so cruel 
as to take away my only comfort. I will be any- 
thing, do anything, if you will only leave me 
my child ! Have pity on me. Monsieur,” she 
said appealing to her kinsman, “ I will go right 
away with my child, and leave you in undis- 
puted possession. Let me only keep her and 
you shall have everything else.” 

Monsieur looked uncomfortable. The scene 
was growing pathetic. Above all things he de- 
tested a woman’s tears. 

“ This is none of my doings,” he answered 
roughly. “ It is not in my power to stay* pro- 
ceedings. 

“ Is there nothing that I can do, father, to 
prevent this cruelty ?” said the poor young mo- 
ther, turning her white, agonized face to the dark 
sinister one. 

“ Yes, madame. If you will sign the recanta- 


200 


PRO CHRISTO. 


tion there will then be no need for me to re- 
move your child. You shall have two days in 
which to decide.” 

With a cry Beatrice sank senseless to the 
floor. With a smile of triumph on his lips at 
the sight of the prostrate woman, the priest 
strode out of the room followed by the new 
marquis. The Jesuit had amply revenged him- 
self for the words hurled at him by Roland Har- 
court, 

“ Begone, vile hound of the Sorbonne !” 


‘‘As our Lord redeemed the world by being a man, 
the true Son of the true Father, so the only way for a 
man to help men is to be a true man to this neighbor 
and that. So shall he fulfil the part left behind of the 
work of the Master, which He desires to finish through 

him.” MACDONALD. 

“Why shoulds’t thou fill to-day with sorrow 
About to-morrow. 

My heart ? 

One watches all with care most true ; 

Doubt not that He will give thee too 
Thy part !” 


PAUL FLEMING. 



THE TESTING-TIME, 


203 


CHAPTER XVI. 

THE TESTING-TIME. 

In a miserable cell in the Tour de Constance 
sat Roland Harcourt, his face buried in his hands. 
The last few weeks had been to him like some 
horrible dream. The arrest, the midnight ride, 
the mockery of trial, his condemnation were all 
things of the past. The one fact which was 
burned into his brain was his sentence of death. 
But this was not immediate. He was to lan- 
guish in prison for three long months before 
the sentence would be executed, or as the con- 
fessor who daily visited his cell said, “ through 
the clemency of a gracious sovereign, space was 
given him in which to repent.” 

“ Why did I not listen to the warning of my 
father, and the wise counsels of Paul Clement ? 
Fool that I was to pursue my own plans. Ca- 
lamity has fallen upon me and upon those I love 
best. I have staked all, and lost everything.” 

Steps were heard in the corridor, and the 
door of the cell was unlocked and opened. The 
jailor unceremoniously thrust another prisoner 
into the room with the words, “ Cells all full ! 
He ’s going to the galleys in the morning. No 
harm to double up for one night !” 


204 


PRO CHRISTO. 


An elderly man in clerical garb stood before 
Monsieur Harcourt. 

“ O Lord of hosts, hear my prayer !” he said, 
with a look of inquiry. 

'‘Give ear, O God of Jacob !” responded Ro- 
land. The two men clasped each other’s hands 
in speechless joy. 

“ It is a cause of great thanksgiving that my 
last night in prison can be spent in the society 
of a fellow Huguenot. God is indeed gracious, 
and this is but one more evidence of his watch- 
care over his children.” 

“ What crime have you committed against 
our illustrious sovereign?” asked Monsieur Har- 
court bitterly. 

“ I am here for the ‘ crime of assemblies,’ my 
young friend. I have lived to see the language 
of the Roman emperors revived. For the crime 
of assemblies the early Christians were cast be- 
fore the lions or tossed on the horns of angry 
bulls. Seventeen centuries of Christianity have 
failed to make men comprehend the sacred 
rights of conscience. But God reigneth. Out 
of the seeming ill good will come. The blood 
of martyrs hath ever been the seed of the 
church. You remember what one of the fa- 
thers of the Reformation said : ‘ When the 
church takes a new life, it is fertilized by the 
blood of its confessors; and being continually 


THE TESTING-TIME. 


205 


exposed to corruption, it has constant need to 
be purified by suffering.’ What offence has 
; caused your imprisonment, my friend ?” 

“I dared to defend my hearth-stone, and I 
‘ refused to suffer extermination without a strug- 
I gle. I also sought to avenge the wrongs com- 
mitted against my aged father.” The young 
man then related the atrocities with which the 
king had crowned the life of his faithful servant. 
“ I am under sentence of death, to be executed 
after three months of solitary confinement in 
this dark hole.” 

1 “Poor lad !” said the elder man compassion- 
1 ately. “ I would gladly die in your place, if by 
! so doing you could be spared. The galleys for 
: life is my sentence. Mayhap I can show my 
love for my Master just as effectively when 
chained to the oar, as by preaching his word 
from the pulpit. If the path he bids me tread 
leads over Calvary, shall I shrink ? Never ! I 
count it a privilege to suffer for the sake of 
Christ, my Lord.” 

“ Oh, monsieur le pasteur, if I could feel as 
you do my burden would be less heavy to bear. 
I see now that I have been a Huguenot only in 
name. The spirit of self-sacrifice and devotion 
to Christ which my father possessed and which 
so many of the pastors possess, is not mine. I 
have been blinded by self-will. I wanted to do 


2o6 


PRO CHRISTO, 


God’s work in my own way, and it was my glory 
that I sought instead of His. I thought that no 
one could defend my loved ones except myself, 
and in my rashness I have loaded myself and 
others with misery. Had I but served my God 
as faithfully as I did the king, I should not 
have been the miserable man I am to-day.” 

A smile lit up the rugged features of the 
preacher, and the noble passion for souls which 
stirred his being made his face beautiful. 

“ My son,” he said, laying his hand on the 
bowed head, “ there is only one Master whose 
service is perfect freedom. That Master is the 
Lord Christ. Thank God that the truth has at 
last reached your heart. The Father is holding 
out his loving hands to help you. Jesus has 
come to make the Fatherhood of God and the 
Sonship of man clear as the sunlight. There is 
nothing for you to do but in love and obedience 
to rise up and be God’s child.” 

For hours they talked on spiritual things. 
The words of the faithful pastor were like the 
seed which fell on good ground. Roland Har- 
court at last comprehended the meaning of the 
old, yet ever new, story of redeeming love. 

“ My Lord and my God !” he exclaimed, 
throwing himself upon his knees. The preacher 
knelt beside him, and the cell echoed that night 
with the words of prayer and praise. 


THE TESTING-TIME. 


207 


The change which came to Roland was like 
the passing from darkness to light. The vague, 
shadowy beliefs which he had inherited and 
accepted as authority, had now become actual 
verities. He felt a new love, a new impulse, 
which invigorated his spirit, as the fresh morn- 
ing air invigorates one on rising from sleep. 

At early dawn his new friend departed to 
begin his convict life. Roland shed tears at the 
parting. “ Do not weep for me,” said the 
^ preacher. “ My enemies may torture and im- 
prison my body, but no one can really harm me. 
Adieu, my young brother! We shall meet 
again, I trust, where the wicked cease from 
troubling and the weary are at rest.” 

i “ God liveth ever ! 

Wherefore, soul, despair thou never ! 

What though thou tread, with bleeding feet, 

A thorny path of grief and gloom ? 

Thy God will choose the way most meet 
To lead thee heavenward — lead thee home.'* 


It was a long time before Beatrice recovered 
from her swoon. “ Bring me my baby !” were 
her first words. When Isabel placed it in her 
arms, she sat straining it to her bosom, with a 
frightened look which was pitiful to see. 

‘‘ Now leave me alone 1” she said imploringly. 
‘‘ I must think.” 

Isabel reluctantly complied, and went into 


2o8 


PRO CHRISTO. 


the park for a stroll. As she paused a moment 
by the garden hedge, Dr. Clement appeared 
from behind a group of pines which skirted the 
wall. 

I have been watching for you,” he said. 
“ How is Beatrice to-day?” 

Isabel recounted the fresh calamities which 
had befallen the household, and the rumor of 
which he had heard. 

“We must save her and the babe,” replied 
the doctor. “ There is no time to be lost. Jean 
and I will be waiting at the fork in the roads 
to-night soon after dark, with a conveyance. 
Perhaps you can contrive some way to pass the 
gates unnoticed. Here is a harmless drug,” he 
added, taking a powder from his pocket. “A 
little of this in wine or water will produce sleep. 
Just before starting give the babe a few drops 
of the solution. You will find directions on the 
packet. If you do not come at the appointed 
time I shall know that escape was impossible, 
and we must devise some other method. I rely 
a great deal upon your fertile brain, Isabel, for 
success.” 

“ I shall pray for guidance, and perhaps 
some plan will unfold to my mind during the 
day,” replied the girl. “I must not leave Bea- 
trice any longer. She is nearly distracted with 
grief. Good-by !” 


THE TESTING-TIME. 


209 


“ God bless you, my brave girl !” said Paul, 
and grant you success.” 

When Isabel returned to the castle she found 
the young wife calm, but there was a look of 
despair in her eyes. 

“ Do not say one word to me, Isabel. I have 
made up my mind to sign the recantation, for I 
cannot live without my baby. I do not know if 
God will forgive me, but if he made a mother’s 
heart, he must understand how sore pressed I 
am. I cannot forsake my child. She would die 
in the hands of those cold, passionless nuns. I 
have thought and thought until my brain seems 
all on fire. I imagined when the testing-time 
came that I should be strong and brave, but the 
cross was more than I could bear. I could give 
up anything else in the world better than my 
baby.” 

“My dear child,” said her nurse tenderly. 
“ you shall have your babe and not recant.” 

“ What do you mean ?” said Beatrice. 

“ Paul has planned for us to make our escape 
to-night, if I can manage it. Please lie down 
and rest all you can to-day, for you will need 
strength for the trip.” 

A gleam of hope appeared in the wan face ; 
then it vanished. “ You will never be able to 
outwit Father Ignatius. He is cunning, and he 
will be on the watch.” 

14 


210 


PRO CHRISTO. 


“ Do not worry about anything,” replied Isa- 
bel, “ but leave all to me.” Beatrice did as she 
was bidden, and was soon fast asleep. Made- 
moiselle Paulet then gathered a few articles of 
clothing into a bag, together with her friend’s 
jewels and some gold coins. She then went to - 
the housekeeper’s room, but old Marie was not 
there. In her place was a giddy young woman 
with a pretty face and bold eyes. 

“ I would like to speak with the housekeep- 
er,” said Isabel. “ Has she gone down stairs ?” 

“ She has gone farther than that,” said the 
maid, giggling. ‘‘ She is discharged, as well as 
the other old servants. Master brought new 
help with him. You are the only one that has 
been kept, and I think your place is not very -i 
secure from what I heard the priest say. Can I I 
do anything for you ?” ] 

It was evident that the girl desired to be . 
friendly, and Isabel was not slow to take in the 
situation. 

‘‘Yes. I should like a slice of toast and a i 
broiled chicken for Madame.” 

“ I will get them for you,” replied Anita. 

The girl went to the hall door, which she ;; 
left ajar. A second door appeared at the head i 
of the stairs.' Anita drew a key from her pocket | 
and unlocked it. Isabel, who was listening in- 
tently, heard the lock snap into place as the door 


THE TESTING-TIME. 


2II 


was closed. The truth flashed upon her mind. 
They were prisoners ! This maid was undoubt- 
edly paid for keeping a close watch upon their 
movements. The greatest care was necessary 
in order not to excite suspicion. 

The day wore away, and still no definite plan 
presented itself to Isabel’s mind. Fortunately 
the new marquis kept his apartment, and had 
not intruded since his call with Father Ig- 
natius. The servants were carousing in the 
kitchen. 

How warm it is !” said Anita, coming to 
the door and fanning herself vigorously. “ And 
how thirsty I am !” 

A sudden thought flashed across Isabel’s 
mind. A suggestion from God !” she after- 
ward said reverently. 

Get me some lemons and sugar, Anita, and 
a lump of ice, and I will make you a refreshing 
drink. Bring them into my room and we will 
have a nice chat afterward. Do not speak of it 
to the other servants, for they will all want to 
taste our delicious beverage.” 

Flattered by the patronage of the nurse, 
whom she regarded as a superior being, the girl 
hastened to obey. Isabel put a little of the pow- 
der into a glass, first dissolving it in water, that 
its presence might not be noticed. Anita re- 
turned quickly, and a tempting drink was soon 


212 


PRO CHRISTO, 


prepared. The girl drained the glass and de- 
clared herself refreshed. 

'‘You look tired/' said Isabel. “It is hard 
work to run up and down stairs as much as you 
do. Lie down and rest while I sip my glass of 
lemonade.” The drug acted very quickly. The 
girl’s eyelids began to droop suspiciously, and 
in a short time she was sleeping profoundly. 
Taking the keys from Anita’s pocket, Isabel en- 
tered the young wife’s apartments. 

“ Everything is ready for our escape !” she 
said quietly. “ I will give Rosalie a few drops 
of this quieting medicine for fear she might 
grow frightened and cry. The servants are 
having a good time generally, and are probably 
so drunk that they will cease to be watchful.” 

Night was approaching when they stole 
quietly down the stairs. They unlocked the 
hall door and stepped quickly into the yard. 
Isabel took the precaution to relock the door, 
that their flight might not be so readily discov- 
ered. All was still. Instead of following the 
paved walk to the gates, they went through the 
shrubbery where the shadows were the deepest. 
It was fortunate that they did so, for sounds of 
voices were heard, as Father Ignatius and the 
new lord came walking up the pavement to the 
castle. They passed so near the fugitives that 
their conversation could be distinctly heard. 


THE TESTING-TIME. 


213 


The Jesuit was saying, “ Anita says my haughty 
little lady is likely to recant. I thought we 
should find a way to bring her off her high 
stilts.” 

“ I confess I dislike to be mixed up in such 
business,” replied his companion. “ I should 
not have cared a bit if the girl had kept her 
child, provided she would keep her agreement 
to make no trouble about the property.” 

“ The only way to subdue these Huguenot 
women is to take their children from them. We 
will visit my lady after supper.” The voices 
grew indistinct. Isabel clutched her friend’s 
arm and drew her rapidly toward the gate. 

“ We have no time to lose. In a few mo- 
ments our flight will be discovered.” On the 
bunch of keys was found one which fitted the 
lock. Once beyond the gate, they ran swiftly 
to the rendezvous where Paul and Jean awaited 
them. 

“ Hurry the horses !” cried Isabel. “ Father 
Ignatius may be on our track even now !” 

Jean applied the whip faithfully, and the 
wagon rattled over the rough road at a smart 
pace. After several miles were passed, Jean 
stopped the horses and they all alighted. 

“ We shall have to make the rest of the jour- 
ney on foot,” said Paul, as he struck out over the 
mountain, carrying the sleeping babe on his 


214 


PRO CHRISTO. 


arm, and helping Beatrice over the rough places. , 
Fear lent her strength, and although her limbs 
were weak and trembling, she pushed on with- 
out a word of complaint. 

“ We are almost home,” said the doctor cheer- 
fully. “ Just a few more rods, and we shall reach , 
our retreat.” 

He paused before what appeared to be a mass 
of underbrush, and felt for a large smooth stone : 
which was nearly concealed by the dense foli- i 
age. He gave a low whistle. A voice called ! 
for the pass-word, and this being given, the \ 
stone was rolled aside, and the opening of the ^ 
cave appeared. Paul and his friends passed in, 
and the stone was moved carefully into its 
former position. 


‘‘Never a word is said, 

But it trembles in the air, 

And the truant voice has sped 
To vibrate everywhere ; 

And perhaps far off in eternal years 
The echo may ring upon our ears. 

“Never are kind acts done 
To wipe the weeping eyes, 

But like flashes of the sun 
They signal to the skies. 

And up above the angels read 
How we have helped the sorer need. 

“There is no end to the sky, 

And the stars are everywhere. 

And time is eternity. 

And the here is over there. 

For the common deeds of the common day. 
Are ringing bells in the far away.’' 


BURTON. 




THE RETURN OF THE EXILE. 


2iy 


CHAPTER XVII. 

THE RETURN OF THE EXILE. 

The Cayennes Mountains abounded in nat- 
ural caverns, some of them very large, one 
cavern opening into a series of underground 
chambers. Many of these caverns were the 
lairs of wild animals which infested the moun- 
tain fastnesses. These caves were utilized by 
many of the persecuted Huguenots, and they 
formed a safe refuge for them during the reign 
of Louis XIV. No considerable body of soldiery 
could penetrate these dense forests, and the 
caves themselves were not easily discovered, the 
fact of their existence being known only to the 
peasants of the region. In one of the largest 
of these caverns Madame Clement and her 
family had taken refuge. Jean Rohan and his 
little brood had now sought refuge here, while 
in another cavern higher up the mountain were 
old Antoine Marie and her son, and the other 
servants of the castle. 

The new arrival was hailed with delight. 
Madame Clement gathered her niece in her 
arms, and looked at her with unutterable ten- 
derness. 

“ We cannot give you the comforts which 


2i8 


PRO CHRISTO. 


you enjoyed at the castle, but we can shield 
you and your babe with our love and our pray- 
ers.” 

“ To be among my kindred, and to have my 
babe and my freedom is — heaven,” said Bea- 
trice, the tears rolling down her pale cheeks. 
“ My good Isabel has saved me from recanting. 
I should have signed the paper to-morrow rather 
than lose my babe.” 

Madame Clement looked at Isabel with loving 
eyes. “ My joy and my crown !” she said, taking 
the girl’s hand. The young doctor regarded 
Mademoiselle Paulet with glowing eyes. For 
a moment he seemed about to speak, but he 
recovered himself and went into another part of 
the cave. 

After Beatrice and her babe had gone to 
rest, Fulcrand Rey came in to visit his friends. 
After hearing discussed the incidents which 
had occurred at the castle, he told his eager lis- 
teners the latest report from Paris. “ The king’s 
marriage with Madame de Maintenon has been 
confirmed,” he said. “ Madame was saluted as 
‘ Her Majesty ’ by a zealous courtier, and she 
acknowledged the courtesy with a gracious smile 
and nod. The king, however, does not publicly 
acknowledge her as his queen.” 

Nevertheless the quondam widow will rule 
the destinies of France,” said Paul bitterly. 


THE RETURN OF THE EXILE, 


219 


“ You are right,” returned M. Rey. “ The 
doom of the Huguenots is sealed. The terrible 
law which invades the sanctuary of the home, 
and deprives parents of their offspring, is the 
final act in the drama. King Louis has now but 
to sign the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes, 
and his work of grace will be complete. We 
have become the off scouring of the earth, and 
our dwellings are caves.” 

“ But the sufferings of this present time are 
not worthy to be compared with the glory which 
shall be revealed,” said the sweet voice of Ma- 
dame Clement. 

“Oh, glorious thought!” cried M. Rey. “I 
thank God that he has accounted me worthy to 
suffer ignominy for his name’s sake. But I 
must not linger here. There are many other 
sheep of the house of Israel whom I must 
visit. The flock has become too timid to meet 
together for worship very often, and hence I 
must seek them out and break the bread of life 
to them.” 

Beatrice Harcourt recovered strength rapidly 
in her new home, and her babe grew daily as 
winsome as a flower. But the sad, wistful look 
never left the young mother’s eyes, and Ma- 
dame Clement, who had passed through the 
same fiery ordeal, knew the anguish which was 
eating like a canker into her heart. She wisely 


220 


PRO CHRISTO. 


forbore speech, but treated the stricken one with 
the tenderness of a mother. 

M. Romaine had been informed of his daugh- 
ter s whereabouts, and he advised her to remain 
where she was for the present. Father Igna- 
tius would leave no stone unturned to recover 
the child. He insisted on furnishing provisions 
for the suffering brethren in the C4vennes, 
which were left regularly at a cave about a half 
mile away. 

One evening. Dr. Clement came in with a 
look of joy on his face. “ I have brought good 
news !” he exclaimed. “ Our beloved advocate, 
Claude Brousson, has decided to brave the dan- 
gers which menace him, and return to France 
to preach the gospel to his persecuted brethren. 
Here are a few extracts from the open letter 
addressed to the ministers who fled from France, 
which M. Brousson caused to be published.” 

“ It is true ” wrote the advocate, “ that men 
have forbidden you to preach, but God com- 
manded you. It is God who has ordered you 
to proclaim his gospel. He alone has the right 
to impose silence upon you. To-day the storm 
is not furious, and you may daily learn that 
God is raising up other pastors to bring back 
the sheep that have gone astray. If long since 
you had taken the trouble to make your people 
and the enemy know that you were quite ready 


THE RETURN OF THE EXILE. 


221 


to prefer your duty to your life, it may be that 
your people would have had more firmness, and 
your enemies would not have driven you to 
extremities. Had you at first made your hid- 
ing-place in the woods, the caverns, and the 
clefts of the rocks, had you then gone from 
place to place, had you exposed your lives in 
order to continue to instruct and reassure the 
persons whom the first onset of the enemy had 
affrighted, and had you suffered martyrdom 
when Providence called you thereto, as other 
faithful men have done, who have exercised 
your sacred offices in your absence, it may be 
that these exercises of constancy, zeal and piety 
would have revived the courage of your flocks, 
and stopped the fury of your enemies. When 
God permits pastors to be put to death for the 
gospel, they preach more loudly and more effect- 
ually in their graves than they did in their life- 
time, and meanwhile God does not fail to raise 
up other laborers for his harvest.” 

“These are brave words,” said Madame Cle- 
ment when the doctor finished reading. 

“ M. Rey said that the fugitive pastors chafed 
under this merited rebuke. One of their num- 
ber replied to M. Brousson, and told him that 
before he reproached others for cowardice, he 
had better first try his own prescription. The 
advocate defended himself from this assault by 


222 


PRO CHRISTO. 


saying that as a lawyer he had not felt called 
upon to jeopardize his life unnecessarily. But 
Monsieur had a tender conscience, and the 
thought that perhaps he was not doing his whole 
duty rankled in his mind. After careful thought 
and much prayer he decided to return from 
exile, and preach the gospel We may expect 
to see and hear him any time now, for he is to 
make his home in our beloved C^vennes.” 

A few nights afterward M. Rey visited our 
friends, accompanied by M. Brousson. Great 
was the rejoicing in this household at this glad 
meeting. 

‘‘ May God reward you for coming back and 
holding aloft the standard of the cross,” said 
Madame Clement. 

“ I should be glad, Madame, if I could in a 
humble way take up the work which your sainted 
husband laid down. His voice has been silenced, 
but it was his noble confession and staunch loy- 
alty to Christ which first led me to see the 
beauty of a life consecrated to the Master. I 
would speak to the flock as he spake — a dying 
man to dying men. If I can influence but one 
soul to attempt a nobler Christian life, my mis- 
sion will not be unsuccessful.” 

“ M. Brousson has scruples about preaching, 
because he has not been regularly ordained to 
his work,” said M. Rey. 


THE RETURN OF THE EXILE. 


223 


“ He has a better laying on of hands than 
most ministers receive,” replied the young phy- 
sician. “ Those whom God raises up, the hand 
of the Lord is on them ; and that surely is good 
laying on of hands.” 

“ You are Cecil Celement’s own son,” said M. 
Brousson, looking at the young man affection- 
ately. “ Have you heard aught of your husband, 
Madame, since he went away ?” 

“ Nothing, Monsieur ! I entertain no hope 
that he is living. His constitution was under- 
mined by months of confinement in a damp 
dungeon, and he could not last long at the gal- 
leys. I look for him in the better country.” 

A low sob attracted the stranger’s attention, 
and Beatrice rose and left the group. The young 
wife’s sad story was repeated to the pitying lis- 
teners. 

Poor wounded lamb !” said M. Brousson. 
“ I will come in again soon, and talk with her. 
She must not be left comfortless.” 

The advocate adopted a straightforward 
course on his return to his native land. He 
did not rush recklessly into danger, neither did 
he make any attempt to conceal from the gov- 
ernment his presence and his purposes. He 
even went so far as to write a letter to the 
haughty Intendant, M. Basville, in which he 
said, “ The State must perish, or liberty of con- 


224 


PRO CHRISTO. 


science must be reestablished therein. The 
most peaceable grow weary at length of being 
treated as slaves and butchered like beasts,” 
boldly signed this notable epistle, “ Claude 
Brousson, Minister of the Gospel,” and dated 
his letter, “ From the Cevennes.” 

According to his promise he called soon to 
converse with the sad young mother. 

“My sister,” he said, “have you lifted your 
eyes unto the hills from whence cometh help?” 

The tears slowly trickled down the pale 
cheeks. “ I can think of nothing but my sins, 
M. Brousson. I should have denied the faith 
rather than lose my babe !” 

“I do not think you need brood over that, 
my child. God knows how sorely you were 
tempted. God in his infinite mercy did not 
leave you to make the decision. He tempers 
the wind to the shorn lamb.” 

“ I grieve for the wasted years of life,” said 
Beatrice. “ I have never done anything for the 
Master.” 

“ What does God say to the penitent heart ? 
As far as the east is from the west, so far hath 
he removed our transgressions from us. Our 
iniquities hath he blotted out for his name’s 
sake. The present is yours, to make of it what 
you will. Do not doubt the Saviour’s love, or 
his willingness to receive you. Nothing would 


THE RETURN OF THE EXILE, 


225 


grieve him so much/’ M. Brousson said a great 
deal more in the same vein. 

“Are you sure the Master will receive me, 
unworthy as I am,” asked Beatrice. 

“ Let us ask him !” said Monsieur, in a sweet, 
solemn voice. 

They both knelt, and this erring child was 
committed to the heavenly Father’s care. 

When Monsieur looked again in the face of 
Beatrice Harcourt, he said, “I do not need to 
say anything more. God has spoken peace to 
your soul. May his blessing abide with you 
evermore.” 


15 



'‘As once toward heaven my face was set, 

I came unto a place where two ways met ; 

One led to Paradise, and one away. 

And fearful of myself lest I should stray 
I paused that I might know 
Which was the way wherein I ought to go. 

The first was one my weary eyes to please. 
Winding along through pleasant fields of ease, 
Beneath the shadows of fair, branching trees. 

‘ This path of calm and solitude 
Surely must lead to heaven,' I cried 
In joyous mood ; 

‘ Yon rugged one, so rough for weary feet. 

The footpath of the world’s too busy street. 
Lying amid the haunts of human strife 
Can never be the narrow way of life.’ 

But at that moment I thereon espied 
A footprint bearing trace of having bled. 

And knew it for the Christ’s, so bowed my head, 
And followed where He led.” 




THE TRIAL OF FAITH, 


229 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

THE TRIAL OF FAITH. 

A WEEK later M. Rey stopped at the cave 
to inform the occupants that there would be a 
prhhe the following night, in the glen about 
half a mile distant, at which M. Brousson would 
preach and administer the Sacrament of the 
Lord’s Supper. 

“ You will all attend, I trust,” he said, look- 
ing around the little group. 

Aye, verily replied Madame Clement. 
“ I have longed for this hour with an unutter- 
able longing.” 

Amen ! Amen !” echoed the others. M. 
Rey then distributed the mereaux or tokens made 
out of small pieces of wood, among the mem- 
bers of the family, who expected to be present at 
the communion. These tokens were inscribed 
with some appropriate passage of Scripture, 
a device, each church having its own particular 
figure. The tokens which M. Rey was distribut- 
ing represented the scene at the crucifixion, and 
the Scripture passage was, ‘Hf any man thirst, 
let him come unto me and drink.” “ And I, if 
I be lifted up will draw all men unto Me.” None 


230 


PRO CHRISTO. 


except those who were accorded as among the 
faithful received these tokens, and presented 
themselves at the communion-table. 

“ I should like to confess Christ before men,” 
said Beatrice, coming to M. Rey with the light 
of a new-born hope shining in her eyes. I 
am unworthy, but I believe the Master has for- 
given me, and I would obey his last command, 

‘ Do this in remembrance of Me.’ ” 

I bid you welcome to the Lord’s Table, my 
sister,” said M. Rey, handing her a token : 

“ The only fitness he requireth, 

Is to feel your need of Him. " 

I must not tarry longer. I have to spread 
the good news of the prkhe among our scattered 
flock. We are hoping for a large gathering to 
listen to the stirring words of M. Brousson.” 

“ I will go with you,” said Dr. Clement, put- 
ling on his hat and cape. 

The next day was dark and stormy. The 
rain poured in torrents, and the wind howled 
through the ravines, and lashed the swollen 
mountain streams into fury. Toward night, 
however, the wind went down, and the skies 
cleared. Everything looked favorable for the 
prkhe. Our little party started early for the 
rendezvous. Beatrice left her babe with the 
wife of Jean Rohan, who was indisposed. She 


THE TRIAL OF FAITH. 


231 


had committed her husband, her child, her all, 
in God’s hands, and for the first time in her life 
a sweet sense of rest had come to her soul. 

The spot selected for the meeting was a most 
desirable one. Situated as it was between two 
ravines, it seemed to defy discovery. About 
one hundred and fifty men, women and chil- 
dren had assembled, when our friends drew near. 
The scene was weird and picturesque. Several 
lanterns had been hung on the rocks, and at 
various points armed sentinels had been sta- 
tioned. On a wagon for a pulpit stood M. Brous- 
son. After reading a psalm and offering prayer, 
the Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper was admin- 
istered. There were several who came forward 
with Beatrice to receive for the first time these 
symbols of the Saviour’s dying love. The face 
of the preacher was illumined, as he welcomed 
these newborn souls into the visible church of 
Christ. As he gave the young mother the right 
hand of fellowship, he said in low tones, “ To 
whom much is forgiven the same loveth much,” 
and Beatrice was comforted. 

The text was then announced. “ Be thou 
faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown 
of life.” The sermon which followed was robust, 
Scriptural, and cogent. It dealt with things 
present, and things which are to come ; of the 
hopes and fears of the human heart ; of the 


232 


PRO CHRISTO. 


power of God, before whom men are as grass- 
hoppers ; and the love of God, to whom every 
living soul is infinitely precious. 

“ Remember,” he said, the words of our 
Christ. ‘The servant is not greater than his 
Lord. If they have persecuted me they will also 
persecute you.’ Let us, my children, esteem it 
our highest honor that as we can do so little 
for Christ, we should be called in some way 
or other to suffer for him, till he gives us our 
discharge and takes us to share the triumphs 
of that victorious faith which overcometh the 
world.” 

In the midst of the sermon the fearful cry 
rang out on the night air, “ The dragoons are 
upon us ! Flee for your lives !” 

In an instant all was the wildest confusion. 
The people scattered in every direction like 
terrified sheep. Beatrice and Isabel kept to- 
gether, and took one of the narrow paths which 
led through the woods to the cave. Dr. Clement 
assisted his mother up the rocky sides of the 
ravine, and she disappeared in safety. The 
dragoons were now in the midst of the fleeing 
congregation. 

“ Surrender, or we fire !” The fugitives gave 
no heed to this command, and a volley of 
musketry was discharged. The air was filled 
with the cries and groans of the wounded. Dr. 


THE TRIAL OF FAITH. 


233 


Clement was trying to assist Constance to a 
place of safety, but she was so overcome with 
fright that he was obliged to carry her. Two 
of the dragoons caught sight of the stalwart 
form of the young doctor, and separating them- 
selves from the rest of the soldiers, they started 
in pursuit. Dr. Clement saw his danger, and 
bounded from rock to rock in desperation. The 
weight of the terrified girl was nothing to the 
strong youth, but the frantic clutch of her 
hands and arms seriously impeded his progress. 
The dragoons gained upon him. A solid wall 
of rock confronted him. It was impossible to 
escape at this point, and the soldiers pressed so 
closely upon him as to cut off all chance of re- 
treat. A groan escaped him. The soldiers yelled 
in fiendish joy, 

“ Ha ! ha ! We have trapped that smart 
Cevanol doctor. We shall get a big reward for 
securing such a prize!” 

Paul cared nothing for himself, but when he 
gazed at the sweet face of his little sister his 
soul was torn with anguish. How could this 
frail lily breast the storm? Would not the 
tempest rudely snap the delicate stem, and bring 
its white head to the ground ? So gently reared 
and familiar with nothing but an atmosphere of 
love and purity, how could she bear the coarse 
insults of the wanton dragoons ? 


234 


PRO CHRISTO. 


Constance raised her head from her brother’s 
shoulder, and gazed around with large, terrified 
eyes. 

“ She is too good-looking a lass to be hidden 
among the rocks and bushes of the C^vennes,” 
said one of the soldiers. 

Paul’s eyes flashed, and his hands clenched. 
Just then the leader interfered. 

“ Stop your chaffing, and bind your prisoners. 
Since the rain the roads are in a terrible condi- 
tion!” 

The order was instantly obeyed and the weary 
journey begun. Unused to such rough treat- 
ment Constance began to falter. Then she sank 
to the ground exhausted. 

“ Let me carry her,” said her brother. “ She 
is not strong and is faint from weariness. I give 
you my word of honor that I will make no effort 
to escape.” 

“ You do not suppose that we are such fools 
as to unbind you, do you?” answered one of the 
soldiers. Then he added not unkindly, “ if the 
maid wishes she can ride behind me.” 

‘ Constance shrank from the touch of the 
soldier, as he assisted her to mount, but the 
calm voice of her brother reassured her. It 
is all right, little sister. The journey is almost 
done.” 

Weary and footsore the little company en- 


THE TRIAL OF FAITH 


235 


tered Nismes at daybreak, and marched without 
delay to the prison. In the waiting-room there 
were quite a number of other prisoners. The 
profane and obscene language of the dragoons 
and officers of the prison made Constance shud- 
der. Ever and anon a shriek or a moan was 
heard from the torture-chamber, where unhappy 
Huguenots were being persuaded to recant, or 
betray their brethren. 

I understand that you have great influence 
with the Cevanols of Languedoc,” said the cap- 
tain of the dragoons to Dr. Clement. “ You 
must be aware of the hiding-place of that bold 
rebel, Claude Brousson. Tell us where we may 
find him and your freedom and that of your 
sister is assured !” 

“ I will never betray my noble friend, if it 
cost me my life !” replied Paul. 

'‘You may have a chance to prove your 
words,” said the captain with an oath. 

“ Guards ! remove him to the torture-cham- 
ber !” 

With a cry of agony Constance sprang from 
the grasp of the soldiers, and rushing to her 
brother, flung her arms about his neck. 

“ Oh, Paul, do not leave me alone ! I am so 
afraid of these men. They will kill you if they 
take you away !” 

The doctor’s face worked convulsively, and 


236 PRO CHRISTO, 

the sweat stood in beads on his forehead, but his 
voice was calm. 

“ My little sister, do not tempt me to forget 
my duty. Remember our father, and what he 
endured for Christ’s sake. Try and compose 
yourself that I may be strong?” 

“ Perhaps if we take the lass into yonder 
chamber of delights, we shall bring this cour- 
geous young man to terms quicker,” said one 
of the soldiers with a meaning smile. 

Paul started as if stung. “ My God ! Do not 
forget that your are Frenchmen ! You cannot 
find the heart to torture this defenceless girl ! 
She is little more than a child ! It would be a 
cowardly, dastardly thing !” 

“Softly, my young sieur!” answered the 
captain. “ Our orders forbid our laying hands 
on the demoiselles, but yonder lass is not of 
noble birth. The Huguenot women have proven 
so obstinate that we have been ordered to adopt 
severe measures for their conversion.” 

Two soldiers approached Constance to lead 
her away, when with a wild cry she ran into the 
arms of a man who was just entering the room. 
A profound silence reigned as the man removed 
his cape and looked around. 

“ It is the Abbd F^nelon !” murmured Paul. 
“ Thank God, Constance is saved !” The room 
grew dark, and Dr. Clement lost consciousness. 


THE TRIAL OF FAITH. 


237 


'‘What is the meaning of this disturbance?”' 
asked the Abbe as he led the trembling girl to 
a seat. 

No one answered. 

“ My child, tell me frankly what has so fright- 
ened you !” Constance raised her large inno- 
cent eyes to his face, and said simply, “The 
soldiers were about to take me into the torture- 
chamber, in order to make my brother tell where 
Monsieur Brousson is hiding.” 

“We were just chaffing,” said one of the 
soldiers, apologetically. “ We only meant to 
frighten them both !” 

“ Let me hear of such proceedings again at 
your peril !” said the Abb^, sternly. “ How 
often have I told you that gentleness and kind- 
ness will convert more souls than cruelty !” 

“ The king cannot wait for such leaven to 
work,” answered the captain sullenly. 

“ My influence cannot extend throughout 
France,” returned F^nelon, “and prevent mis- 
ery and crime, but at least in Nismes I have 
authority. I insist, as a prelate of the church, 
that you henceforth respect my commands and 
obey them. This is the last time that I shall 
speak of the matter. You disobey at your peril !” 

Paul had by this time recovered conscious- 
ness, and in a weak voice thanked the good 
Abb6 for his timely interference. 


238 


PRO CHRISTO. 


“ I am Cecil Clement’s son ; father, and I have 
tender recollections of your kindness to my mo- 
ther. God will reward you richly for your heart 
of grace. I beg of you to see that my sister is 
protected !” 

“ Have no fear, my son. She will retire to 
my convent, where the nuns will take kind care 
of her. I presume you will be removed to the 
Tour de Constance during the day. I can do 
little for you, my power is limited. But at least 
your fear for your sister can be laid at rest.” 

“You are a good man, Ahh6 F^nelon ! How 
is it that you preserve your sympathy for God’s 
children in the midst of these sleuth-hounds?” 

The Abb^ smiled sadly, but made no reply. 
The soldiers began to show signs of impatience. 

“ Remove the prisoners to their cells,” said 
the Abb6, rising and speaking authoritatively. 
“ If there are any in the torture-chamber re- 
move them likewise to their cells, and bind up 
their wounds. I shall return later in the day, 
to see if my commands are obeyed. I will ac- 
company this maid to the convent myself.” 

The Abba’s orders were strictly fulfilled. 
Paul Clement was conveyed to the prison at 
Aigues Mortes, while his sister was lodged in 
the convent known as the Nouvelles Catholi- 
ques. 


‘ Content thee ; in dear Paradise 
There waits a day 

Smiling for thee when shadows here 
Have passed away. 

‘ And standing 'neath the joyous palms 
To thee 't will seem 

That all the fears and tears wept out 
Are one faint dream. 

‘ He gives us and he gives us not ; 

Our God can wait, 

And his best gifts he keeps for us, 

Nor gives too late. 

‘ No smile is lost forevermore. 

Lost is no love ; 

They wander home to wait for us 
In joy above.'’ 









* 


I 






FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH, 


241 


CHAPTER XIX. 

FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH, 

In the meantime Madame Clement, Beatrice, 
and Isabel, assisted by Jean Rohan, had made 
good their escape, and had reached the cave in 
safety. They waited anxiously for the return of 
Paul and Constance, but as the hours passed 
slowly, and they failed to appear, the terrible 
truth forced itself upon their' minds that they 
were taken prisoners. Their fears were con- 
firmed when M. Brousson was admitted to the 
cave. He knelt and took Madame Clement’s 
hand. 

“ Can you bear sad news, my sister ?” 

“Yes,” she replied, with a far-off look in her 
eyes. “ Everything I have is given to the Lord. 
I knew when we went to the preche that we took 
our lives in our hands. Tell me the worst ! Are 
my children dead ?” 

“No, Madame, but they have both been taken 
prisoners. Further than that I know nothing. 
May the Lord preserve them!” Later in the 
day news was brought of the captives by M. 
Romaine, who was hungering for the sight of 
his daughter’s face. 

“ I am surprised, Armide,” he said in a petu- 
16 


242 


PRO CHRISTO. 


tant tone, “ that you allowed those children to 
run needlessly into danger. To attend a prhhe 
is equivalent to a warrant of arrest. How could 
you permit your children and mine to go to such 
a place ? The king is growing impatient at the 
obstinacy of the Huguenots, and severer meas- 
ures are being adopted by the intendants. The 
tortures inflicted are more cruel, the pretexts 
more false, and the chances of escape more hope- 
less. Beatrice, as you love your father, do not 
take such a risk again.” 

Madame Clement sighed as she looked at her 
brother. He could not, or he would not, see 
the beauty of a Christian life. The thought that 
he ought to be willing to resign himself and’ all 
his possessions into God’s hands filled him with 
anguish and rebellion. He would not submit 
his will to God’s will, even to win treasure in 
heaven. 

Beatrice came and put her arms about her 
father’s neck. “ Dear father, if I could only 
make you understand how happy I am ! When 
I am willing to give myself and all I had into 
God’s hands, Roland and the babe, my life — 
everything — it seemed as though instead of los- 
ing my treasures, I had never so fully possessed 
or enjoyed them. He gave them back to me, 
sweetened and purified by his love. I am happier 
now even though separated from my husband, 


FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH. 


243 


than I was in those bright days when the 
sweetness of human love hid the divine love 
from my sight.” 

I do not understand you, but I am very 
glad if you feel contented,” said M. Romaine, 
pushing the gray locks from his forehead. “Your 
son, Armide, is located in the prison Tour de Con- 
stance, and his sister is, I find, in the Abbe Fdne- 
lon’s convent, where he assures me she will re- 
ceive kind treatment. He advises that you 
refrain from visiting her, and promises to inform 
you of any serious illlness.” 

“ Thank God !” exclaimed the mother as the 
grateful tears gushed from her eyes. “ If my 
lamb is in the good Abbd’s hands, she will be 
safe from the severities of the persecution. That 
she will remain staunch in the faith I have no 
doubt. She is the child of many prayers.” 

M. Romaine pressed a purse of money into 
his sister’s hands. “ Call on me for more when 
that is gone. It is hard for me to think that 
my only child and my granddaughter are living 
in a cave, while am I surrounded by all the lux- 
uries of life.” 

“ Give up the struggle, brother. Come and 
cast in your lot with us. You will receive a 
blessing.” 

M. Romaine recoiled at the thought. “Not 
yet, Armide ! Not yet ! Perhaps I shall feel 


244 PRO CHRISTO, 

like it by and by. Besides, I must keep my 
coffers full, in order that I may help my perse- 
cuted brethren. Urge me no more, Armide !” 

Too kind of heart to sympathize with the 
persecutors of the Huguenots, and too weak to 
assert his independence, the banker and broker 
was tossed about and broken on the rocks of 
indecision. 

It was evening. In a luxurious library M. 
Romaine sat before an open grate full of glow- 
ing coals. The crimson portieres were closely 
drawn, the candles lighted. All the surround- 
ings breathed of comfort and security. The 
handsome clock on the mantel chimed the hour 
of eight. 

Suddenly the bells of the city pealed forth 
in mighty chorus. Drums sounded, shouts and 
huzzas and other evidences of a great commo- 
tion filled the air. M. Romaine summoned a 
servant, and inquired the meaning of this unu- 
sual disturbance. 

‘‘ The king has signed the Revocation of the 
edict of Nantes, and the Catholics are having a 
jubilee !” was the answer to his query. 

“ They say that France will shortly be * all 
Catholic,’ ” continued the servant, “ and the alien 
religion will be crushed under foot in less than 
a month.” The servant evidently expected his 
master to sympathize in this general rejoicing, 



BE NOT TERRIFIED, MY SON.” Pasje 245 




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FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH. 245 

and he looked quite crest-fallen when he received 
a curt order to retire. 

“My poor countrymen !” groaned the un- 
happy banker,’’ there is now no alternative for 
you except abjuration or death. My friends 
and relatives, perhaps my only child, are in 
imminent danger. They must leave France at 
once. Why have I not thought of this before ? 
They must go to England or Holland immedi- 
ately.” 

Engrossed with his thoughts M. Romaine 
failed to hear a gentle tap on the door, and the 
first intimation he had of the presence of a 
stranger was when he turned about to reach for 
his writing materials. Close by his side was the 
cowled figure of a monk. 

With a cry he sprang to his feet, the color 
leaving his fiorid face. He lived in mortal fear 
of the Jesuits. 

“ Be not terrified, my son. My errand is one 
of peace !” On emerging from the large circular, 
and throwing aside the cowl, the benevolent 
face of Fenelon appeared. 

“ Ah, good father, you gave me quite a start ! 
I am glad enough to see so kind a face as yours 
to-night.” 

“You do not share in the public festivities. 
M. Romaine !” said the Abb6, giving his host a 
keen look. 


246 


PRO CHRISTO, 


I am neutral, you know,” returned the ban- 
ker evasively. 

A look of pity, not unmixed with scorn, 
crossed F^nelon’s face. 

“You are a Huguenot at heart, M. Romaine, 
but you became a Catholic to avoid persecution. 
I tell you frankly that no blessing will come to 
you while you lead the life of a hypocrite. You 
should be what you profess to be, a sincere 
Catholic. Conversion by force of arms makes 
exceedingly poor Christians. I believe in the 
Roman - catholic religion, and labor day and 
night to bring my fellow-men in the fold of the 
mother church ; yet I like not coercion on mat- 
ters of conscience. You imperil your soul’s sal- 
vation, Monsieur, by remaining neutral. But 
enough of this. I came to-night to see you on 
other business. Madame Clement’s daughter is 
lying dangerously ill at the convent. We fear 
she will pass from our care before another day 
has gone. She took a sudden cold the night of 
her arrest, and has sunk rapidly ever since. If 
you will bring Madame Clement, in a suitable 
disguise, to the bedside of her daughter, my mis- 
sion here to-night will be fulfilled, and my word 
to that burdened woman redeemed. 

“ What think you of that sweet child, Abbe ?” 
inquired the banker. 

“ She is as pure as a lily, and her soul is as 


FAITHFUL UNTO DEA TH 


247 


clear as crystal. I talked with her a few times 
about her salvation ; but when I saw what a com- 
fort her faith was to her, I bade the sisters cease 
from troubling her. She is in the keeping of 
the Great Shepherd of the sheep. The longer 
I live and the more I read the gospels, the more 
I am impressed with the words of our Saviour : 
‘ Other sheep I have, which are not of this fold. 
Them also must I bring, that there may be one 
fold and one shepherd.’ Constance Clement 
is one of these lambs, and I would not hesitate 
to give her absolution did she request me to 
do so.” 

“ I wish France was full of such men as you, 
Abbe F^nelon,” said the banker as he stooped 
to receive the father’s blessing. 

There was no time to be lost, and a trusty 
messenger was despatched to the cave. In less 
than two hours he returned with Madame Cle- 
ment. M. Romaine conducted her to the convent. 

“ Rest a short time, Madame.” said Fenelon, 
leading her into his private apartments. ‘‘It is 
nearly time for the sisters to perform their mid- 
night vigils, and while they are thus engaged 
you shall enter your daughter’s chamber, where 
you can remain as nurse until the end comes.” 
In less than half an hour the bell sounded, 
which called the nuns to their devotions, and 
the mother with beating heart entered the plain 


248 PRO CHRISTO, 

unadorned room where Constance tossed on 
her hard bed in a feverish sleep. The mother’s 
eye quickly noted the flushed face, the bound- 
ing pulse, and the labored breathing. She laid 
her cool hand on the hot forehead and whis- 
pered, “ My poor, stricken lamb !” The dark 
eyes opened wonderingly. 

“ That was my mother’s voice ! But no, I 
must have been dreaming ! My mother would 
not be in this cold, cheerless place !” - 

“ It is your mother, Constance ! Do you not 
know me, my child ?” 

The fever lifted from the clouded brain, and 
with a cry of ecstasy the girl pillowed her head 
on her mother’s breast, and holding fast to her 
hand, she sank into a quiet sleep. She slept a 
long time, and Madame Clement, overcome by 
fatigue, slept also. A slight noise roused her, 
and waking with a start, she discovered that the 
last great change had come over the counte- 
nance of the sick girl. The large eyes were open, 
but they seemed to see things invisible to mor- 
tal eyes. 

“ I hear music, mother, . . . such sweet mu- 
sic, . . . and the cave is growing light, ... It 
must be that the dawn is near, ...” With a sigh 
the weary eyelids closed. The doctor’s little 
sister had seen the King in his beauty in the 
land which is not very far off.” 


FAITHFUL UNTO DEA TH. 


249 


Madame Clement gently laid the head back 
on the pillow. The Abb6 F4nelon, who had 
entered the room noiselessly, stood beside 
her. 

“ It is over !” he said gently. The mother 
looked at him with dry eyes. “ I thank God 
that he has taken my lamb to himself, where 
she will have no more thorny ways to tread. 
One by one the ties which bind me to earth are 
loosening.” 

Daughter,” said the Abb4 tenderly, Whom 
the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth 
every son whom he receiveth. Take comfort! 
God smites us not in anger but in love. Yonder 
lamb he has removed to the heavenly pastures, 
where her feet will never go astray. The Lord 
Jesus was willing for our sake to walk over Cal- 
vary. If we would follow in those blessed foot- 
steps we must not shrink when the bitter cup 
is held to our lips !” 

The face of F^nelon glowed with saintly 
joy. His daily life proved his near walk with 
God, and added power to his words. 

The stony composure which the stricken 
mother maintained gave way, and great sobs 
shook her frame. 

“You were kind to my child, Ahh6. You 
rescued her from untold horrors. May God 
bless you for your manifold acts of sympathy.” 


250 


PRO CHRISTO. 


“ I am amply rewarded this moment,” replied 
F^nelon. 

“ Can I have the body of my child?” faltered 
the mother. 

I cannot grant your request, Madame. The 
rules of the convent are very strict, and it would 
be impossible for me to make an exception in 
your case. It matters little where the precious 
dust is laid. She shall have a quiet resting-place 
in the convent burying-ground. Our prayers 
and services for the dead cannot harm her in 
the land where she has gone. The times are 
so unsettled since the revocation of the edict, 
that any attempt to convey the body hence 
might bring disaster and ruin upon your friends. 
Cannot you trust me, Madame, with your treas- 
ure ?” 

Yes, good father ! I can trust you. I realize 
the wisdom of your words, and my lips shall 
not utter a word of complaint.” 

With a last, lingering kiss upon the once re- 
ponsive lips, the mother left the room, and re- 
joined M. Romaine. The banker marvelled at 
the wonderful nerve she exhibited, when she said, 

“ Let us go, brother Franqois ! My child is 
with her Saviour !” 

A few days later, as the household in the 
cave assembled for evening devotions, a whistle 
was heard clear and shrill like a clarion. 


FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH. 


25 


“That is M. Brousson’s signal,” cried Bea- 
trice joyously. Jean admitted him to the cavern, 
and a seat of honor was placed for this welcome 
guest. 

He saluted Madame Clement tenderly. “I 
know all, my sister, and I rejoice that your daugh- 
ter has been called home. When you have done 
yearning for her you will rejoice too. She is 
snatched from all bitter grief, such as now over- 
whelms you, from the sins of a wicked world 
and the plague of an evil heart ; and she has 
been called to the land of everlasting peace, 
where the voice of the turtle is ever heard in the 
land, and where the inhabitant never sayeth, 
‘ I am sick !’ and she is now singing with the 
redeemed, ‘ Worthy the Lamb which was slain 
for us !’ 

“ Another of our friends has been called to 
enter heaven through the gateway of martyr- 
dom. I bring to-night to you, and to all the 
flock in the C^vennes, the last triumphant words 
of their beloved pastor, Fulcrand Rey.” 

“Fulcrand Rey?” echoed his listeners in 
dismay, while sobs burst from the overflowing 
hearts of the little company. 

“ Let me tell you the encouraging story of 
an unfaltering trust,” said M. Brousson. “ Our 
young pastor was betrayed to the government 
officials by a pretended friend, and arrested. 


252 


PRO CHRISTO. 


His bearing- at his trial was manly, and his cour- 
age superb. The Intendant, M. Basville, was 
apparently moved by the behavior of M. Rey, 
and said to him, 

“ ‘ Monsieur, you still have time to save your- 
self !’ 

“ ‘ Yes, my lord !’ he replied, ‘ and it is that 
time I want to use for my salvation.’ 

“ ‘ M. Rey, you must change and you shall 
have life !’ 

“ ‘Yes, my lord, I must change ; but it is to 
go from this life of wretchedness to the king- 
dom of heaven, where a blessed life awaits me, 
which I shall soon have and possess.’ 

“ ‘ Where did you preach ?’ the Intendant 
asked him. 

“ ‘ Wherever I found the faithful gathered.’ 

“ ‘ But the king forbids it !’ 

“ ‘ The King of kings has ordered me to do 
it, and it is right to obey God rather than men !’ 

“ When they tortured him on the rack he tes- 
tified that he scarcely felt pain, and when con- 
fronted by the gallows he evinced a singular 
delight at the prospect of death. 

“‘No longer think,’ he said, as he mounted 
the scaffold, ‘of terrifying me by means of 
death. If I had apprehended it I should not 
have been here.’ 

“ Thus died our beloved young preacher of 


FAITHFUL UNTO DEATH. 253 

only twenty-four years, a glorious example of 
the victory of our faith ; and the roll-call of the 
martyrs is not finished yet,” added M. Brousson 
prophetically. '‘We know not the day nor the 
hour when we shall be summoned to the torture 
and to death. Let us watch and pray that we 
may be ready when the Master calls.” 



r^fr . > , '■ 

i:.5V: ’ . •'■■ >•'%'■ ■: 







‘ Not once or twice in our rough island-story 
The path of duty was the way to glory ; 

He that walks it, only thirsting 
For the right, and learns to deaden 
Love of self, before his journey closes. 

He shall find the stubborn thistle bursting 
Into glossy purples, which outredden 
All voluptuous garden roses. 

‘ Not once or twice in our fair island-story 
The path of duty was the way to glory : 

He, that ever following her commands. 

On with toil of heart and knees and hands 
Thro’ the long gorge to the far light has won 
His path upward, and prevailed. 

Shall find the toppling crags of duty scaled 
Are close upon the shining table lands 
To which our God himself is moon and sun.” 


A NOBLE CONFESSION. 


257 


CHAPTER XX. 

A NOBLE CONFESSION. 

In the meantime Dr. Clement had been tried 
at Nismes, and sentenced to the galleys for life. 
He was conveyed to the prison about a score of 
miles south of Nismes, La Tour de Constance, 
to await the execution of his sentence. The 
prisons were daily being filled with Huguenots, 
and such as had the misfortune to be strong and 
able-bodied were sentenced to the galleys with- 
out reference to their crime. Louis XIV. was 
very anxious to keep a good supply of rowers 
in the galleys, and the opportunity had now 
opened to gratify his ambition, and at the same 
time punish rebellious subjects. The prison. 
Tour de Constance, was situated beside the sea, 
and the water stood all about in stagnant pools. 
The atmosphere was full of pestilence and reek- 
ing with foul odors from the salt marshes. The 
prison itself was deemed impregnable, and was 
dreaded nearly as much as the Bastile at Paris. 
A large number of prisoners were conveyed to 
the fortress with the young physician, and as a 
result the prison was crowded. It was found 
necessary to confine more than one in a cell. 

Dr. Clement, to his great delight, found him- 
17 


258 PRO CHRISTO, 

self ushered into the same room with Roland 
Harcourt. No sign of recognition escaped them, 
as long as the watchful eye of the jailer was 
upon them, but when he locked the door of the 
cell, and his steps were heard echoing along the 
corridor, the two friends sprang into each other’s 
arms. The young marquis was much changed. 
His form was bent and emaciated. Yet there 
was a look of rest and submission on the worn 
countenance, which at once attracted the doc- 
tor’s attention. 

“ You have found the sure Refuge ?” he asked 
inquiringly. 

“ Yes,” answered the young man, “ and all is 
peace. But tell me about Beatrice. How I have 
hungered for a word from her !” 

“ She is well and the babe also !” 

A look of joy flashed into the sunken eyes. 
“ My little child, whom I have never seen,” he 
murmured. God bless her !” 

The doctor then related all the incidents 
which had occurred at the castle since the mar- 
quis had been arrested, together with the flight 
of Beatrice to the cave. The marquis, in his 
turn, told the story of his imprisonment, and 
how God had blessed the words of the Hugue- 
not preacher to the saving of his soul. 

“ If I had only followed your advice, Paul, 
I might not have been here. But I was ever 


A NOBLE CONFESSION. 259 

headstrong. God has led me to himself through 
the storm. I would not return to him in the 
sunshine, but in the tempest I heard his voice.” 

“ God’s ways are not our ways, nor are his 
thoughts our thoughts,” said the doctor rev- 
erently. For a long time they conversed to- 
gether. Then Paul roused himself, and began 
to investigate the call. Roland watched him 
curiously. 

“ What are you doing ?” he inquired at 
length. 

I am ascertaining if there be any means of 
escape from this prison. Do you suppose that 
I intend to be sent to the galleys for life? 
Never ! We must make our escape !” 

“ Escape from the Tour de Constance ?” said 
Roland in amazement. “ Man, you are mad !” 

“ Perhaps so !” replied the doctor, continuing 
his investigations. 

In the cell was a chimney, the tunnel of 
which came out on the summit of the tower. 
It was filled with iron gratings. Paul stopped 
and explored this place in silence. If I only 
had some sharp tool I could guarantee our 
escape,” he said at length. 

Your wish is granted,” replied the marquis, 
producing a good sized clasp-knife. 

‘‘ Where in the world did you procure this ?” 
inquired the doctor. 


26 o 


PRO CHRISTO. 


“ Several days ago the governor and several 
other of the prison officials came . to my cell to 
make a last appeal to me to abjure my religion, 
They remained quite a long time, and when 
they rose to go something dropped from one of 
their pockets on the floor. There was some car- 
pentering being done in the prison at the time, 
and the noise of the falling knife was not no- 
ticed. I quietly stretched out my leg, and con- 
cealed the article. Great was my joy when I 
discovered that I had a knife in my possession. 
I already had a rusty nail, and with that I man- 
aged to raise one of yonder bricks, and conceal 
the knife. Sometime afterward, the loss of the 
knife was discovered, and every cell was care- 
fully searched to no purpose. The jailer said 
the governor came to the conclusion that he 
must have lost it outside the prison.” 

“ In less than a week, Monsieur le Marquis,” 
said the doctor in joyous tones, “ I can make a 
hole in that chimney large enough to enable us 
to get out upon the roof of the prison. Then 
we must descend to the ground by means of 
ropes. Our bedclothes will furnish us with ma- 
terial. Keep up good courage ! We will make 
our escape ! Oh for night to come that I may 
begin work !” 

Let me suggest an improvement upon your 
plan,” said Roland. “ This tower in which we 


A NOBLE CONFESSION 261 

are located, is connected with a long rambling 
stone structure, a part of which is used as a 
prison, and a part of it is reserved for the use of 
the prison officials. At the farther extremity 
the building has fallen into decay, and is there- 
fore unoccupied. It would not answer for us to 
descend to the ground from this tower, for it is 
encircled by a deep ditch filled with water ; but 
we might easily follow the roof of the prison 
until we reach the unoccupied portion, and from 
this point make good our escape.” 

“ Capital !” cried the doctor. “ We shall, 
please God, be free men soon !” 

“ At six o’clock a meagre supper was brought 
the prisoners, and they were locked up for the 
night. Then the doctor removed part of his 
clothing, and set to work. The sea, breaking 
upon the rocks, concealed the noise occasioned 
by scraping the mortar. The cement yielded 
readily to the knife, and that night he loosened 
two of the iron bars, carefully replacing them, 
th^t no change might be noticed. In less than 
a week the doctor had loosened several of the 
iron bars, and had scraped the mortar from the 
bricks so that an opening large enough to admit 
a man’s body could be made in a few moment’s 
time. They now had to wait for a convenient 
opportunity in which to gain their freedom. 

At this season of the year on these low 


262 


PRO CHRISTO. 


marshes, the atmosphere, both morning and 
evening, was filled with a dense fog. This was 
favorable for the prisoners. 

“ I have an idea, Paul,’" said the marquis, 
who had been quite enthusiastic over this effort 
to escape. “ The day after to-morrow is one of 
the feast days in the Roman-catholic church. 
The prison officials, who are devout Catholics, 
will undoubtedly be absent a good part of the 
day, and there will be fewer sentinels on guard. 
The drunken orgies will probably begin the 
night before. Had we not better try to make 
our escape to-morrow night ?” 

“ By all means !” exclaimed the doctor. “ Let 
us bid farewell to the Tour de Constance to- 
morrow night ?” 

Accordingly, about midnight the following 
evening they began their perilous journey, 
after first committing themselves to the care of 
the Heavenly Father. They crawled through 
the opening made in the chimney, and swung 
themselves down upon the roof of the main 
building in safety. The night was dark and 
rainy, and no sign of the sentinel appeared. 
The roof was nearly fiat, and they had very 
little difficulty in reaching the unoccupied part 
of the prison. The dense fog concealed them 
from the occasional sentinel, who with lantern 
in hand paced the walk below. They now came 


A NOBLE CONFESSION. 


263 


to a second tower, in which was a window. It 
yielded to the pressure of the doctor’s hand. 
He swung himself inside and dropped to the 
floor beneath ; Roland followed his example. 

“ I have found a door,” said Paul, feeling his 
way about in the darkness. The lock had rusted 
off, and the hinges were partly gone. They 
pushed on and came to a flight of stone steps. 
These they carefully descended. Another di- 
lapidated door was opened, and another flight 
of slimy steps were traversed. The way was 
now obstructed by a pile of stone, which had 
fallen in. “We are near to the outer world — 
and freedom,” said Dr. Clement. “ I can smell 
the sea !” Both men 'set to work with a will re- 
moving the stones. In about an hour’s time 
they made an opening through which they 
crawled, and then they stood erect upon mother 
earth. They were beyond the beaten track of 
the sentinels, and as there was little danger of 
discovery, they struck out boldly inland, and soon 
reached the forest, where they stopped to rest. 

Meanwhile Monsieur Brousson was vigorous- 
ly pushing his missionary work. He preached 
incessantly, holding, as a rule, three conventi- 
cles a week, besides making numerous calls 
upon the scattered flock, praying, exhorting and 
comforting them. The Intendant, Monsieur Bas- 


264 


PRO CHRISTO. 


ville, to whom Brousson had sent several open 
letters, tried in vain to ensnare the intrepid 
apostle. He seemed to possess a charmed life. 

“ It is certain this man does infinite dam- 
age!” the Intendant is reported as saying; and 
again, after Monsieur Brousson had successfully 
avoided a trap which had been laid for him, the 
enraged Basville cried, “ This man torments me 
more than ever!” An unusual price was set 
upon the preacher’s head. Six hundred louis 
d’or, of fourteen francs each, were offered for 
his apprehension. This was a powerful incen- 
tive to the foes of the Christian apostle. He 
went to the foot of the Pyrenees to hold meet- 
ings — as it were into the den of lions itself — and 
it was at Olaron, in Bearn, that he was finally 
seized by the spies of the Intendant, and carried 
back to Montpellier for trial. 

There were three charges preferred against 
him. First, the holding of conventicles, which 
the king had proscribed; second, his part in the 
meeting at Toulouse, which had for its object 
the holding of Protestant services on the spots 
forbidden by the king ; and third, that he had 
written a letter to certain foreign powers, in- 
voking their aid to assist the persecuted Hugue- 
nots. 

To all of these charges Monsieur Brousson 
replied frankly. He had obeyed God rather 


A NOBLE CONFESSION. 265 

than men, and he admitted that he had preached 
wherever he could find listeners. He owned 
that the letter to foreign powers was in his 
handwriting, but the composition of the letter 
was that of Vivens, a friend of his, residing out 
of France. He regretted this solitary instance in 
which he had been led to depart from the strict 
line of submission to the king’s dictates, and for 
this offence he humbly craved the king’s pardon. 

He was tortured to compel him to reveal the 
names of those who attended the conventicles, 
but he revealed nothing. He was sentenced to 
be bound to the wheel and broken alive. But 
the Intendant Basville ordered him to be stran- 
gled first — not from any feeling of compassion 
for his foe, but, to use his own words, “ To have 
done with the show as speedily as possible.” 
Ten thousand persons viewed the martyrdom 
of Claude Brousson, and sobs and tears testified 
to the affection in which he was held. At the 
door of his prison he began to sing the thirty- 
fourth psalm adapted by Theodore Beza : “I 
will bless the Lord at all times. His praise shall 
continually be in my mouth.” The guard or- 
dered him to stop, in the Intendant’s name. A 
corps of ^drummers made such a din that his 
voice could no longer be heard. When he was 
executed, the Intendent said mirthfully : “ This 
man can do no more harm !” 


266 


PRO CHRISTO. 


A voice, clear and powerful, rose above the 
tumult. 

“ France can boast no names more worthy of 
being held in everlasting remembrance than 
those of the noble Huguenot pastors who have 
suffered death for Christ’s sake.” 

“ Who dared speak such words?” cried the 
blood-thirsty Basville. “ By my soul, he shall 
have a taste of the wheel.” 

The people looked at each other in amaze- 
ment. The voice had seemed to come from the 
clouds. No one noticed two strangers who, 
passing through the town, had stopped on the 
outskirts of the throng to witness the triumph 
of the lawyer, preacher, and publicist, Claude 
Brousson, martyr for Christ’s sake. 


‘ ‘ I JOURNEY through a desert drear and wild, 

Yet is my heart by such sweet thoughts beguiled, 
Of him on whom I lean, my strength, my stay, 

I can forget the sorrow of the way. 

‘ ‘ Thoughts of his love — the root of every grace 
Which finds in this poor heart a dwelling-place ; 
The sunshine of my soul, than day more bright, 
And my calm pillow of repose by night. 

“Thoughts of his coming — for that joyful day 
In patient hope I watch, and wait, and pray ; 

The dawn draws nigh, the midnight shadows flee, 
Oh ! what a sunrise will that advent be.” 


THE HUGUENOT GALLEY-SLA VE. 269 


CHAPTER XXI. 

THE HUGUENOT GALLEY-SLAVE. 

On the galley L’Heureuse, at Dunkirk, twen- 
ty-two Huguenots sat chained to their benches, 
while beside them, keeping close watch, was the 
comitt or overseer. He held a whip of small 
cords in his hands, and woe to the luckless con- 
vict who slackened his oar. 

Capt. Maulevrier had with him a guest of 
some consequence : the Superior of missionaries. 
Father Garcin, had come to make his tour of 
inspection. Anxious to show how quickly he 
could set the whole equipage in motion, the 
captain issued a peremptory command to the 
convicts. Each man bent to the oar, and the 
galley was soon gliding over the water. One 
unfortunate convict, from sheer exhaustion, 
dropped his oar. 

“Seize No. 8 and chastise him!” cried the 
brutal captain to the comite. 

Instantly the prisoner was seized by four 
fellow-convicts and held to the great cannon on 
the prow of the ship, and the terrible bastinado 
was about to be administered, when a voice 
broke the silence. 

“Jean Marteilhe is not rebellious, but he 


270 


PRO CHRISTO. 


is exhausted. I beg you to show him some 
mercy !” 

The speaker was a Huguenot convict — a 
man past middle life, of commanding stature 
and dignified bearing. At the sound of this 
voice, Father Garcin started. 

“ It cannot be !” he muttered. “ The man 
must have died years ago ! How familiar those 
accents sounded ! Cecil Clement had just such 
musical tones, when he spoke. I must investi- 
gate the matter !” 

The Superior roused himself just in time to 
prevent the captain from striking the rash 
speaker. 

“The man is right, Monsieur le Capitaine. 
The convict is exhausted. Let there be no bru- 
tality used. Unloose the man and return him 
to his post !” 

The order was instantly obeyed. The Supe- 
rior continued, “ I shall be better pleased with 
the management of the galleys if some of this 
unnecessary cruelty is abandoned. The lot of 
these men is unenviable enough without adding 
beatings for every trivial offence. Moreover 
you will ruin their constitutions.” 

The captain looked discomfited, but he dared 
make no reply. The authority of the Father 
Superior was absolute. 

They retired to the captain’s cabin, where 


THE HUGUENOT GALLEY-SLA VE. 271 

they indulged freely in the social glass, and 
good humor was speedily restored. 

Who was that man who was bold enough 
to interfere this morning?” inquired Father 
Garcin. 

“ That was No. 20. He is a sort of a leader 
among the Huguenots. He has received many 
a bastinado for his insolence.” 

“ His name ?” inquired the priest eagerly. 

“ I do not remember,” answered the cap- 
tain, “ but I can easily find out.” He opened a 
record-book which lay beside him on the table, 
and carefully searched the pages. “ Ah, here it 
is !” he said at length : “ Cecil Clement, Hugue- 
not minister, August, 1679. He has been at the 
oar nearly eight years, and he is one of the best 
convicts vre have ever had. But he remains 
firm in the faith, in spite of punishments and 
persuasions. And what is worse, he incites the 
other Huguenots to remain Protestant, and en- 
courages them by precept and example. I have 
heard him say iiepeatedly, ‘ The king is indeed 
master of our bodies, but not of our consciences.’ 
These Huguenots are a stubborn set of men. 
When they first entered the galleys, the priest 
on Sunday celebrated mass as usual. None of 
the Huguenots knelt at the elevation of the 
host. They were threatened with the bastinado, 
and were given a week in which to consider the 


272 


PRO CHRISTO. 


matter. The next Sunday two of their number 
knelt, the remaining twenty were severely pun- 
ished. But they preferred to die rather than 
succumb. We could not afford to lose these 
valuable convicts, and so we were obliged to 
drop the matter. You are pale. Father! What 
is the trouble ?” inquired the captain, who was 
struck by the ashen look on his companion’s 
face. 

“ It is nothing ! Another glass of wine I 
Thanks ! I feel better 1 ” but the hands of the 
priest shook as if with the ague. “ I should like 
to converse with this Cecil Clement a few mo- 
ments. Would you allow him to come here, 
Monsieur le Capitaine ? I have been called suc- 
cessful in dealing with the Huguenots.” 

Certainly, father ! I have no objections to 
your talking with No. 20. I will send him at 
once. But are you not afraid to remain alone 
in the cabin with the man ? These convicts are 
desperate men.” 

I have no fear,” replied the Superior. 
“ Send the man down.” 

In a few moments the cabin door opened, 
and Father Garcin was confronted by the faith- 
ful minister of the gospel, Cecil Clement, who 
was branded as a convict for Christ’s sake. 
The priest trembled again, as he studied the 
worn, patient face of his friend. With an 


THE HUG UENO T GALLE Y-SLA VE. 273 

effort he controlled himself, and said in calm 
tones, 

“ I have wsent for you, No. 20, in order to in- 
quire the particulars of your journey from Lan- 
guedoc to the coast. It is my business, as Supe- 
rior of the missionaries, to inquire into the con- 
dition of the convicts, and as far as may be to 
alleviate their sufferings. Please be seated, and 
relate your experience.” 

“ Monsieur,” answered the convict, “ your 
question calls to mind painful memories. Of 
the cruel journey from my home in the Cevennes 
to the coast, the horror cannot be well conceived. 
There were four hundred of us in all, or two 
hundred couples in the chain gang when we 
started. Twenty-two of these were Huguenots. 
A chain about a yard in length joined the iron 
collars of each couple, with a large ring in the 
middle, through which passed the links of the 
ponderous grande chaine, which kept the whole 
gang together. The weight which each man 
bore was one hundred and fifty pounds. The 
sufferings incident to the march were something 
terrible. Floggings were plentiful, and we were 
dragged about by the chain attached to the neck 
like beasts ready for the shambles. The Hu- 
guenots received kinder treatment. The sum 
of one hundred crowns, which our fellow-believ- 
ers had given us insured us from the blows of 
18 


PRO CHRISTO. 


274 

the brutal overseer. The ' new converts ’ en- 
couraged us as we passed from town to town, 
with words like these : ‘ Courage, dear confes- 
sors of the truth ! Endure with constancy for 
so excellent a cause. Meanwhile we shall not 
cease to pray to God to grant you his grace, to 
sustain you in your severe trials.’ At night we 
were thrust with other convicts into a dark hole 
or were chained by the neck to huge beams, in 
a half reclining posture very painful to endure. 
It took us nearly three months to reach the 
coast, as there were numerous delays. But God 
has sustained us in our manifold afflictions, and 
our troubles have served but to drive us nearer 
him. Our lot is hard, but we are content. Yes, 
Lord Jesus,” he cried, lifting his hands toward 
heaven, while his worn face was transfigured 
with celestial delight, 

“ Content to fill a little space 
So thou be glorified.” 

Then a strange thing happened in the cap- 
tain’s cabin ; the Superior of the missionaries 
fell prostrate before the Huguenot galley-slave 
and embraced his knees. 

“ Cecil Clement, my long lost friend, do you 
not know me ?” 

It was the prisoner’s turn to look agitated. 
He stooped and gazed long and earnestly at the 
face upturned to his. 


THE HUGUENOT GALLEY-SLA VE. 275 

“ Can it be possible that Jean Paulet is be- 
fore me ? Rise, my brother ! Kneel not to me ! 
I am but a sinful mortal !” 

“ Nay, let me kneel and confess my sins,” 
said the priest, bitter tears coursing down his 
cheeks. “ Let me humble myself in the dust 
before one of God’s saints, unworthy worm that 
I am I Such a life of hypocrisy as I have led ! 
Oh ! the bitter shame of this hour, when my 
own conscience and your blameless life reproach 
me ! But I will rescue you, my friend, if it costs 
me my life !” 

Footsteps were heard approaching. Father 
Garcin sprang from his knees, and assumed his 
former position. No. 20 arose and stood before 
the Superior, as was becoming in a galley slave. 
The captain entered the room in great excite- 
ment. 

“ Make haste to your post. No. 20 ! A pirate 
ship has been sighted, and we shall give chase.” 
The convict obeyed. “ There will probably be 
an encounter,” continued the captain. “ Will 
you go above. Father, and watch the sport, or 
will you remain in safety below?” 

“ I will remain here for the present,” replied 
the priest. 

Darkness was rapidly coming on. The galley 
had immediately started in pursuit of the suspi- 
cious stranger. She gained upon the vessel. 


276 


PRO CHRISTO. 


Upon the quiet waters of the channel the galley- 
had a great advantage over a vessel which was 
dependent upon the wind. There was scarcely 
any breeze, and shortly the pirate ship was be- 
calmed, and could neither advance nor retreat. 
The steady dip of the oars brought the galley 
nearer to the enemy. The pirate ship opened 
the contest with a well directed volley. The 
galley replied with an onset which was almost 
resistless. The two vessels were now close to- 
gether, and the galley crew boarded the prize, 
and swarmed over the bulwarks, and speedily 
overcame all resistance. In the midst of this 
general confusion and uproar the galley-slaves 
were compelled to remain at their post of dan- 
ger. They were liable to be shot, but there was 
not a man among them but what coveted death 
as a blessed release. Suddenly a voice close to 
Cecil Clement’s ear whispered, “ Take this key 
and unfasten your chain !” He obeyed in aston- 
ishment ! Now give the key to your compan- 
ion, and follow me quickly !” 

The Father Superior, for it was he, covered his 
cloak about the convict, and aided by the dark- 
ness and confusion, they succeeded in lowering 
themselves into one of the small boats attached 
to the vessel, and rowed rapidly to the shore. 
The priest guided his friend to the shelter of a 
small grove, a short distance from the citadel. 


THE HUG UENO T GALLE V-SLA VE. 277 

“ Rest here, Monsieur, until I come again !” 

Exhausted and bewildered, pastor Clement 
sank upon the ground. How long he lay there 
he knew not. He was roused from his stupor 
by the sound of horses’ hoofs, and presently 
Father Garcin appeared with two saddle horses. 

“We must lose no time,” he said, as he as- 
sisted his friend to mount. “ The Flemish border 
is only ten miles away. Our horses are fresh 
and we ought to make that distance in an hour. 
Once out of the French kingdom and your safe- 
ty is insured.” 

The animals started on a brisk gallop. The 
priest cautioned his friend not to urge his beast 
at the outset, for fear that they might be obliged 
to call on their reserved power later. Several 
miles were traversed in safety. 

“ I hear the sound of pursuit,” said pastor 
Clement as they paused a moment to rest. Fa- 
ther Garcin looked back. There were several 
soldiers rapidly approaching. “ Our flight has 
been discovered,” cried the priest. “ Now, Mon- 
sieur, urge your horse to the utmost. We cannot 
have more than five miles to go !” 

On dashed the horses at breakneck speed. 
“ Faster, for God’s sake ! cried Father Garcin, 
putting the spurs to his flagging steed. On 
they flew ! One milestone was passed and then 
another. The pursuers gained upon them. A 


278 


PRO CHRISTO. 


shot whizzed through the air. The priest leaned 
forward, so that his body protected his comrade. 
His face turned deathly pale, but he uttered no 
sound. The walled town of Fumes appeared 
in sight. “ Courage ! brother Clement,” gasped 
the priest ! “ Once over that line and we are 

safe !” Only one mile between the fugitives and 
freedom ! Will the gallant steeds hold out ? 
White with foam, and with bloody nostrils, they 
strained every muscle to accomplish the feat. 
They are now near enough to be observed by 
the villagers. The gates of the city are opened, 
and in ride the beleaguered fugitives, a few rods 
in advance of their enemies. The watchman 
closed the gates, and turned a deaf ear upon the 
knocks for admittance. 

“ Fear not,” he said, addressing the priest. 
“ The Prince of Orange will befriend you. He 
loveth not that grand monarch, Louis XIV., 
and he condemneth his barbarous treatment 
of the Huguenots. You are welcome in Flan- 
ders !” 

Father Garcin made no answer, but dropped 
senseless to the ground, the blood oozing from a 
wound in his side. Friendly hands assisted the 
strangers to a hospitable inn, where everything 
for their comfort was done. The doctor ex- 
amined the wounded man, and shook his head 
gravely. “ He can only last a short time,” he 



“‘courage! brother clement,’ gasped the priest.’’ Page 278 






THE HUGUENOT GALLEY-SLAVE, 


279 


said as he left the room. “ I can do nothing 
more for him.” 

The wounded man stirred uneasily, and 
opened his eyes. “ My brother Jean,” said Cecil 
Clement, “ you have saved my life at the sacri- 
fice of your own. May God reward you for your 
noble act !” 

A smile of joy irradiated the priest’s face. 
“ Perhaps God will graciously blot out the sins 
of the past for Christ’s sake,” he said feebly. 
“ My life has been a sad story of human weak- 
ness and folly. I did not want to suffer igno- 
miny and shame, as a member of the Reformed 
Church. I was ambitious, and when a prominent 
parish in the Roman-catholic church was offered 
me, I accepted it. My daughter I intended to 
place in a convent, but she disappeared with her 
nurse. It was a long time before I discovered 
her whereabouts. When I accidentally learned 
that she had been cared for, all these years, by 
your wife, my conscience smote me. Remorse 
filled my soul, and I knew no peace until I 
formed the resolution to seek and save you. For 
months I have searched for you in vain. When 
I heard your voice on board the L’Heureuse, I 
knew that Cecil Clement was found. May your 
precious life atone for the sins of my manhood. 
This is the first happy hour I have known since 
I recanted.” 


28 o 


PRO CHRISTO. 


Know you aught of my family T asked the 
pastor in husky tones. 

“They were all well the last I knew, and 
were hiding in the C^vennes. Your son is a no- 
ble Christian man, and an acknowledged leader 
among the Huguenots. Your niece, Madame 
Harcourt, is with them, together with her infant. 
Her father recanted some years ago. My poor 
daughter Isabel ! How I neglected the child ! 
Tell her that I repented of my sins, and begged 
her forgiveness for the unhappy past. God be 
merciful to me, a sinner !” 

“ God will hear and answer your prayer, my 
brother ! No man ever sincerely cried, ‘ God be 
merciful to me, a sinner,’ but what the blessing 
of forgiven sin came to his soul. He ‘ Like as a 
father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth 
them that fear him.’ ” 

A peaceful look came over the wounded man’s 
face, and he slept, but it was the sleep which 
knows no waking in this world. 

Pastor Clement lost no time in addressing 
a letter to M. Romaine, acquainting him of his 
whereabouts, and asking him to communicate 
with his family. He advised them to join him 
on the Flemish border, if they could accomplish 
the journey in safety. 


Through love to light ! Oh, wonderful the way 
That leads from darkness to the perfect day ! 

From darkness and from dolor of the night 
To morning that comes singing o'er the sea. 

Through love to light ! Through light, O God, to Thee 
Who art the love of love, the eternal light of light \” 

GILDER. 

“The perfect day 

Of God is shadowless, and love is love alway !" 


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“ LO VE IS STRONGER THAN DEA TH" 283 


CHAPTER XXII. 

**LOVE IS STRONGER THAN DEATH” 

It was one of those rare October mornings 
in which all nature seems transfigured. The 
air was crisp and bracing. The forests glowed 
with color which mocked the rainbow in its pris- 
matic glories. Every shrub became a burning 
bush, and every spot seemed holy ground. The 
song of the oriole, “ like the remembered strains 
of Eden’s happy music,” gladdened the ear. 

At the opening to the cave Isabel stood 
watching the sun as it rose from its bed, its 
beams flooding the place with crimson light. 

“ This is the day the Lord hath made ! Let 
us rejoice and be glad therein !” said the voice 
of Madame Clement. 

“ I cannot bear it !” cried Isabel passionately. 

If we could only know the doctor’s fate ! but 
this suspense is intolerable ! I know it is God’s 
hand, but it presses me sore. I cannot give 
Paul up for dead !” 

“With a look of exceeding tenderness Ma- 
dame Clement gathered the weeping girl in her 
arms. “ My daughter, take comfort ! If it is best, 
Paul will be restored to us, and if not let us try 
to say, ‘ Thy will, O God, be done.’ We must 


284 


PRO CHRISTO. 


not hold anything dearer than the love of Christ 
our Lord. That is what Cecil told me, and God 
knows I have tried to learn the lesson which 
that great heart endeavors to teach me, in the 
hour of his sorest need.” 

‘‘ I do try to be resigned to the worst,” said 
Isabel,” but this uncertainty crushes me. Could 
I not go and seek for information concerning his 
fate ? Because Jean did not succeed is no reason 
why I should fail. Say that I may go, beloved.” 

Madame Clement looked at the girl’s plead- 
ing face a moment. “What if I should lose 
you too, Isabel. How could I bear to be bereft 
again ?” 

“ I will wear a disguise, and you know I have 
no fear. I must go.” 

“ Then let it be so, my child. I will put no 
obstacles in your way. Go, and God bless you.” 

An hour later, Isabel disguised as an old 
peasant woman, set forth on her perilous jour- 
ney. 

There had been quite a number of families 
who had sought refuge in the cave since the 
revocation of the edict. Andre Segourn4 and 
Ober Gernon, weavers by trade, with their wives 
and children, and Bertrand Faneuil, an artisan 
in silks, with his wife and child. Beatrice and 
her babe were the light of this dark dwelling- 
place. The young wife tried to throw aside her 


“ LO VE IS STRONGER THAN DEA THT 285 

own troubles, and to lighten those of others. 
Her face wore the look of a sorrow which God 
had comforted. Her little Rosalie was growing 
strong and hearty in spite of the fact that she 
seldom saw the sunshine. The new hope and 
courage which had been infused into the life of 
the mother told upon the babe ; and its happy 
disposition revealed itself in many a baby wile, 
which provoked laughter even from those whose 
hearts were heavy. 

‘‘ My child, it does my soul good to see you 
so happy,” remarked Madame Clement, as she 
heard the sweet voice singing a familiar psalm. 

‘‘I do not know why I feel so joyous this 
morning, auntie, but something tells me that 
we shall hear good tidings from our dear absent 
ones, I sing because I cannot help it. God is 
good, perhaps he sees that we have borne all of 
sorrow that the human heart can bear, and who 
knows but what he will send us unexpected 
relief ? Is it wrong for me to feel so ?” 

No, my child. God permits both the sun- 
shine and the storm to visit us. He knows best 
which we need to make us grow like himself. 
In his own good time he will lead us into the 
desired haven.” 

The day passed without event, and the even- 
ing shadows deepened. Jean Rohan brought 
a large supply of wood for the evening fire. 


286 


PRO CHRISTO. 


and the basket of provisions which came regu- 
larly. While Madame Clement was removing 
the supplies from the basket a familiar whistle 
was heard, clear and shrill as a falcon on the 
wing. 

“That is M. le docteur’s whistle,” said Jean, 
darting to the entrance of the cave. In a mo- 
ment he reappeared, with Dr. Clement and the 
Marquis of Beauclaire. 

“ My son ! My son !” cried Madame Clement, 
as the doctor encircled her with his arm, and 
pressed a kiss upon her forehead. 

Beatrice looked a moment at the gaunt figure 
and sunken cheeks of the stranger,' but the glow- 
ing eyes revealed their own secret. 

“ My husband ! My Roland !” she exclaimed 
as she pillowed her head on that safe resting- 
place, while the marquis showered kisses upon 
lips, cheek and brow. 

Never were travellers from a far country 
welcomed home as were these two brave souls 
who had endured hardship for Christ’s sake. 

“ Mother, I have come back without your 
little ewe lamb. God knows I would have given 
my life to save her.” 

“ My son, let us not grieve as those do who 
have no hope. Our little one has found a safe 
shelter. The good Shepherd gathers the lambs 
in his arms and carries them in his bosom.” 


“ LO VE IS STRONGER THAN DEA THT 287 

“ Where is Isabel ?” said the doctor, rising 
suddenly and looking about the cave. “ Has 
she no welcome for us?” 

“ She left us this morning,” said Madame 
Clement, disguised as an old peasant woman, 
to seek for some tidings of you. I urged her 
not to venture on such a dangerous expedition, 
but she said she could bear the suspense no 
longer, for her heart was slowly breaking.” 

, A strange, sweet look came into the doctor's 
eyes. 

' I must seek her,” he said, wrapping his 

cape about him, and taking a flask of brandy. 
; “ Perhaps at some of the cottages in the hamlet 

I may find some trace of her. I will not be 
gone long.” 

Every inch of ground in this region was fa- 
; miliar to the young man, and he went unhes- 
I itatingly from rock to rock, then down the 
beaten track. When about half a mile down the 
mountain he met Marc Biron escorting Isabel 
home. 

“ God be praised for your escape, M. le doc- 
i teur,” said the peasant, wringing his benefactor’s 
! hand. *•' I am bringing the runaway home, but 
I will resign her to your care. Keep dark for 
I the present, as your escape has raised a great 
I commotion. Goodnight!” 

I ‘‘ Isabel,” said Dr. Clement, taking the girl’s 


288 


PRO CHRISTO. 


hand, “ do you not know that you have caused 
us all great anxiety by your rash step. What 
does is it mean, I pray ?” 

The girl’s lips quivered at the rebuke, but 
she replied bravely : 

After you and Constance were gone, sad- 
ness and discouragement settled upon us all. 
Jean sought for tidings, but was unsuccessful. 
Your mother grew pale and silent, and my own 
heart was fit to break with the suspense. When 
I could bear it no longer I went to see if I could 
not learn something definite concerning your 
fate. On the way to the village Madame Biron 
called me in to her cottage. In spite of my 
disguise she knew my figure and gait. She 
and her husband both insisted that my under- 
taking was a foolhardy one, and Marc said that 
if I would remain at his cottage he would leave 
no stone unturned to procure tidings. He re- 
turned a short time since with the news of your 
escape. Forgive me, Paul, for leaving the cave 
for so long a time. If you only knew the joy 
it affords me to see you once more.” Tears 
choked her utterance and she buried her face in 
her hands. 

Isabel, my darling,” said the doctor in low 
thrilling tones. “ I had thought to keep my 
love for you a secret, until such a time as I 
could offer you the shelter of a home. These are 


“ LO VE IS STRONGER THAN DEA THT 289 

not the times to think of marrying and being 
given in marriage, I thought, before my arrest. 
But in those weary days in the dungeon, God 
taught me differently. These are not the days 
in which to lock up our heart’s choicest treas- 
ures, and tread life’s pathway alone. I can 
keep silence no longer. I do not want to miss 
the sweetness of knowing that you love me. 
When they told me at the cave that you had 
gone in search of me, I said to my heart, “ Isa- 
bel loves me ! Say, darling, did I guess aright ? 
We both love a common Lord and Master. Dare 
I hope that you can regard me as nearer and 
dearer than a brother ? Speak, beloved ! We 
have dwelt too long under the shadow of death 
not to deal honestly with one another ?” 

I would have laid down my life for you 
gladly,” said Isabel, as she lifted her tear- wet 
cheek to his face. 

“ I have my answer, sweetheart,” replied 
the doctor, sealing their betrothal with a kiss. 

“ Greater love hath no man than this : that a 
man lay down his life for his friends.” 

“ The King of Israel 

Whose smile in sunshine brightened all the land, 

Be with thee evermore, 

And shine upon thee with his lifted face. 

And comfort thee as thou dost comfort me. 

With tender love. I bless his name this day 
For his sweet gift to me.” 

19 


290 


PRO CHRISTO. 


But we must not keep them anxiously wait- 
ing at home.” 

“ Isabel has promised to be my wife,” said 
the doctor, leading the girl into the cave and ap- 
proaching his mother. “ God has given me the 
desire of my heart.'” 

No good thing will he withhold from them 
that walk uprightly,” replied madame. “ My 
dear daughter,” she added, pressing a kiss upon 
Isabel’s cheek. “ You have been a daughter to 
me always, and doubly so since Constance left 
us. May the dark cloud hold a silver lining for 
both of you, my children !” 

They conversed until long past midnight. 
Beatrice and her husband telling their mutual 
experiences, and the consolation which God had 
given them in his love : while the doctor told 
them more about Constance and the triumphant 
martyrdom of Claude Brousson. Then Beatrice 
led the way to the homely cradle wherein lay 
little Rosalie, her cheeks crimsoned with sleep, 
one dimpled arm outside the coverlet. The 
marquis knelt beside the cradle, and pressed a 
kiss upon the little brow. 

“ My God, I thank thee for this hour,” he 
murmured. 

“ Amen,” whispered Beatrice. 


“ Even here, 

From his dear children’s eyes God wipes the tear 
And who would mourn a tear should fill his eye, 
For God to dry? 

Angels might envy man his tearful eyes 

When God’s hand dries.” Hamilton. 

“Oh, life hath many a cloudy day 
And many griefs and wrongs ; 

Yet all along its checkered way 
He giveth songs.” 


JAY. 


< 






i 


y 


« 


0 


9 




GLAD TIDINGS. 


293 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

GLAD TIDINGS. 

The next day Dr. Clement called the large 
household together for a family council. Plans 
for the future were discussed. The question de- 
bated was, whether they should remain in the 
cave for the winter, or whether they should seek 
a new home on foreign soil. 

“ I think we ought to leave France at the 
earliest opportunity,” said M. Harcourt. “ It will 
be well nigh impossible to make our dear ones 
comfortable when the weather grows severe. 
Besides, there is the constant fear of discovery 
hanging over our heads. I shall not know a 
moment’s peace until we are well out of France. 
What do you think, Beatrice ?” 

“ It is home wherever you and baby are,” 
replied the young wife, leaning her head loving- 
ly on her husband’s shoulder. 

“There is surely nothing to be gained by 
waiting,” said the doctor. “ Since the revocation 
of the edict, the last hope of the Huguenots has 
been destroyed. The king has sworn to make 
his realm ‘ all catholic,’ and no stone will be left 
unturned to accomplish his object. What is your 
mind, mother?” 


294 


PRO CHRISTO. 


Wherever my children are there shall I be 
content to abide. But oh, I long for the heaven- 
ly home.” 

The rare tears stood in her eyes. The doctor 
turned to his fiancee with an inquiring look. 

“ Whither thou goest I will go,” she an- 
swered in joyous tones. 

“ What do you think of our plan, Jean ?” said 
M. Harcourt, turning to his faithful steward. In 
this little company distinction of rank had long 
since been forgotten. They were all brothers 
and sisters in Christ. 

“ I speak for my fellow-artisans,” answered 
Jean. “ Word has been sent me from some of 
my friends in London, of the happy and pros- 
perous times they are enjoying. In England 
there is peace, plenty, and freedom to worship 
God. We are convinced that it is the best thing 
for us to emigrate. I want my children to be 
able to worship God in his temple. In France 
this will be impossible so long as Louis XIV. 
is king.” 

A murmur of assent went around the little 
company. Just at this point the wife of Jean 
Rohan gave a low cry. “ A letter, madame, for 
you,” she said, holding out the precious missive 
to Madame Clement. “ It was at the bottom of 
the basket of provisions which you commenced 
to unpack last evening.” 


GLAD TIDINGS. 


295 


Read it, my son.” 

The doctor took the letter, and breaking the 
seal read it in silence. As he read his counte- 
nance changed, and every feature expressed the 
keenest joy. 

“ Our cup of happiness is filled to the brim,” 
he exclaimed. How good God is to us ! Mo- 
ther, can you bear joyful news ? You who have 
these many weary years borne so uncomplain- 
ingly the cross, can you bear it when that weight 
is suddenly lifted? The dearest wish of your 
faithful heart is fulfilled?” 

“ What do you mean, my son ?” said Madame 
in husky tones. “ Is your father alive ?” 

“Yes, mother, and has written us a message 
with his own hand, telling us where he is, and 
bidding us come to him.” The overcharged 
heart could bear no more. Madame would have 
fallen senseless to the floor had not the doctor 
encircled her with his arm. 

“ Alas ! the sudden news has killed her !” 
cried Paul. Restoratives were applied, and it was 
not long before she could sit up and converse. 

“ Do not be alarmed about me, my son. Joy 
seldom kills one. Waste no more time over 
me, but read aloud every word of your father’s 
letter.” 

The doctor read the following letter ad- 
dressed to M. Romaine : 


296 


PRO CHRISTO. 


“ My Beloved Brother : You will doubtless 
be surprised to learn that after these many 
years I have been rescued from a life-long servi- 
tude, by my friend, M. Jean Paulet. I grieve 
to add that my noble rescuer, in order to save 
me, sacrificed his life. A shot from our pursu- 
ers fatally wounded my friend, and he died at 
the Flemish town of Fumes, ten miles from 
Dunkirk. M. Paulet has nobly atoned for his 
error. He died in penitence, a true Christian 
believer. He has left many messages for his 
daughter whom he so grievously wronged. He 
could tell me but little of my beloved family, 
save that they were alive and well when he left 
for northern France. Will you kindly break 
the news of my escape to them, and suggest 
that they come to Dieppe, a town not far from 
the Flemish border, where I will meet them on 
a sailing vessel, and we will all emigrate to 
England. I will disclose my plans farther when 
I meet them. Tell my beloved Armide that 
she has been daily and hourly in my thought 
and in my prayers since the sad day when we 
parted. I can scarcely wait to see her and the 
precious children. Tell them to hasten to Dieppe, 
if they can cross France in safety. A sailing 
vessel stops there the first of every month, and 
I am hoping that they can so arrange their 
affairs as to reach the coast in time to take ad- 


GLAD TIDINGS. 


297 


vantage of this fact. You will not know me, 
I am so changed in appearance, but I am sure 
that my heart will tell me when my loved ones 
appear even though they are in disguise. God 
protect and keep you all in the hollow of his 
hand, until we meet. 

“ Affectionately, your brother, 

“ CECIL CLEMENT.” 

Furnes, Flanders. 

“This letter belongs to you, mother,” said 
the doctor folding it and handing it to Madame. 
She took it with trembling hands, and after 
reading it again with streaming eyes, placed it 
in her bosom. 

“ My poor, misguided father,” said Isabel. 
“ How I wish I could have assured him of my 
forgiveness. He has made a noble atonement 
for his sin.” 

“ He has found the true life,” replied the 
doctor. “ ‘ He that loseth his life for my sake 
and the gospel’s, the same shall find it.’ ” 

M. Romaine had enclosed a line which was 
now read. He wrote that it was not safe for 
him to come himself to the cave, and bring the 
joyful news of Cecil Clement’s escape from the 
galleys, as his movements were watched. He 
advised the little band of fugitives to embark 
for England, in divisions of four or five persons. 
He also said that he had deposited a sufficient 


298 


PRO CHRISTO, 


sum of money in a London bank for their use, 
together with explicit instructions which his 
banker would respect. He said that perhaps he 
might follow them later. He wished to make 
sure of their escape before he laid any plans for 
the future. 

Plans were now discussed in earnest for a 
speedy departure. As it seemed wise for the 
different families to reach the coast separately, 
Jean Rohan and his friends concluded to emi- 
grate by way of La Rochelle. There was com- 
paratively little danger in travelling through 
the interior of France. But the coast was close- 
ly watched, and the coast guard made it a diffi- 
cult matter to evade suspicion and discovery. 

“ We are taking our lives in our hands,” said 
Dr. Clement, ‘‘ but there is one comfort : God is 
over all, and if we commit ourselves to his watch- 
ful care, and then use all the means in our 
power to elude our enemies, we have done all 
that mortals can do. God certainly helps those 
who help themselves.” 


In a vallej, centuries ago, 

Grew a little fern leaf, green and slender, 

Veining delicate, and fibres tender, 

Waving, when the wind crept down so low ; 

Rushes tall, and moss and grass grew around it. 
Playful sunbeams darted in and found it, 

Drops of dew stole in by night and crowned it, 
But no foot of man e' er trod that way ; 

Earth was young, and keeping holiday. 

Monster fishes swam the silent main. 

Stately forests waved their giant branches. 
Mountains hurled their snowy avalanches. 
Mammoth creatures stalked across the plain ; 
Nature revelled in grand mysteries. 

But the little fern was not of these. 

Did not number with the hills and trees ; 

Only grew and waved, its sweet, wild way ; 

No one came to note it day by day. 

Earth, one time, put on a frolic mood. 

Heaved the rocks, and changed the mighty motion 
Of the deep, strong currents of the ocean. 

Moved the plain, and shook the haughty wood. 
Crushed the little fern in soft, moist clay. 

Covered it and hid it safe away ; 

Oh, the long, long centuries since that day ! 

Oh, the agony ! Oh, life’s bitter cost. 

Since that useless little fern was lost ! 


Useless? Lost? There came a thoughtful man, 
Searching nature’s secrets far and deep ; 
From a fissure in a rocky steep 
He withdrew a stone, o’er which there ran 
Fairy pencillings, a quaint design, 

Veinings, leafage, fibres clear and fine, 

And the fern’s life lay in every line ! 

So, I think God hides some souls away 
Sweetly to surprise us the last day.” 


THE FLIGHT 


301 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

THE FLIGHT. 

The next morning a second letter arrived 
from M. Romaine. It contained the informa^ 
tion that measures were about to be adopted 
which would make expatriation more difficult 
and dangerous. The law which was issued by 
the king read as follows : 

“ All seamen and artisans are forbidden from 
expatriating themselves and their families on 
penalty of the galleys for life for themselves, 
and a fine of not less than three thousand livres 
to any who might contribute in any way to their 
escape.” 

M. Romaine urged his friends to lose no time 
in making good their escape to England, but to 
start if possible that very evening. To this end 
M. Romaine had provided a stout covered wagon 
and a pair of reliable horses, also a trustworthy 
guide, Peter Bonneau by name, who had already 
safely conducted several families of Huguenots 
to the coast. 

"‘You do not need to distrust the man be- 
cause he is a ‘ New Convert,’ wrote the banker,” 
because at heart he is a staunch Huguenot, who 


302 


PRO CHRISTO. 


recanted, like myself, through fear. He wears 
the sign of the cross, and this fact, together 
with that of his having been received into the 
Catholic church, will be of immense advantage 
to you. When any strangers approach, he will 
do all the talking and so shield the party. I 
have left at the rendezvous a basket, which con- 
tains materials out of which Beatrice and Isa- 
bel can exercise their deft fingers in fashioning 
suitable disguises. The team and the guide 
will be at the miller’s at the foot of the moun- 
tain, at midnight, and I hope you will lose no 
time in availing yourself of this opportunity 
to leave the kingdom. The plan suggested by 
your father, that you take a sailing packet at 
Dieppe, is a good one. Peter tells me that there 
is little danger in travelling to Paris, in the man- 
ner I have suggested. The annual races are 
soon to occur, and people from all over the coun- 
try will be journeying toward the capital. In 
the basket you will also find a bag of coin. 
Money will buy anything in these days, so use 
it freely. You have no need to feel under any 
obligation to me. It is my only way of aiding 
my suffering brethren.” 

‘'Brother Francois has a generous heart,” 
said Madame Clement. “ I pray that he may see 
his way clear to follow us soon.” 

No time was lost in making the necessary 


THE FLIGHT, 


303 


disguises for the party. Madame Clement and 
the doctor figured as an elderly couple, while 
Beatrice and Isabel passed for their daughters, 
and M. Harcourt as their son-in-law. The doc- 
tor leaned heavily on his staff, and madame ap- 
peared bowed with age. Jean Rohan clapped 
his hands when he saw them arrayed for their 
departure. 

'‘No one would mistrust that this white-haired 
old man was our celebrated Cevanol doctor,” 
said he. “ May the Lord give you a prosperous 
journey.” 

For the last time in the cave the household 
gathered together for evening devotions. Fer- 
vent were the petitions which ascended from 
each heart : nor did they omit to pray for their 
king, whom they regarded as the Almighty’s 
scourge. 

“ I feel sorry to leave our underground dwell- 
ing,’*’ said Beatrice. “ Never in my life have I 
been so happy as here.” 

“ A contented mind makes its own sunshine,” 
replied Madame Clement. “ If God wills, in 
sonje better clime we will found a new home, 
and I fancy there are kind hearts and hands, 
even in the strange land to which we are bound.” 

They reached the foot of the mountain in 
safety, and found the guide with the conveyance. 
Speedily they were en route for Paris. They 


304 


PRO CHRISTO, 


travelled only at night, resting during the day 
at inns where the host was in full sympathy 
with the fugitives. It was surprising how many 
men during these perilous days, took up the oc- 
cupation of guide. Bohain, in the province of 
Picardy, was a veritable nest of guides. Men 
seemed to spring up from all quarters, and for 
gold they were willing to incur the great risks 
attached to their chosen profession. A guide, if 
detected, was fined three thousand livres for the 
first offense ; suffered corporal punishment for 
the second offence ; if arrested the third time he 
was sentenced to the galleys for life. 

The journey progressed by easy stages and 
without any serious interruption, until they 
reached the capital. Here, Peter had orders 
from M. Romaine to dispose of the team, as it 
was considered safer to make the rest of the 
journey on foot. Paris was about one hundred 
miles from the coast, and if the journey was 
taken moderately, it was thought that all could 
accomplish it, as they were all in fairly good 
health. The disguises were now changed. They 
dressed like peasants, and drove donkeys laden 
with fruit and vegetables before them. Little 
Rosalie was placed in a basket, and this was 
strapped securely to the donkey’s back, and the 
wee maid enjoyed her chariot immensely. 

The party left the capital at midnight of the 


THE FLIGHT. 


305 


day when the races occurred, and they had no 
difficulty in passing the gates of the city, as 
strangers were going out constantly. 

Before dawn they were near Senlis. Here 
they rested at a quiet inn until the next night. 
They reached Beauvais early in the morning, 
and again retired to a hostelry well known to 
Peter Bonneau. 

“ One night more will find us in Dieppe,” 
said the guide to his friends. 

The party were unusually fatigued with their 
toilsome march, and it seemed to Dr. Clement 
as though he had but just fallen asleep, when 
the guide came into his room with a look of con- 
sternation on his face. 

“ Rise at once !” he said to the half uncon- 
scious physician. A half dozen of soldiers are 
in the inn. They suspect that fugitives are 
in the house. The landlord told me to get you 
all out the back entrance as speedily as possible. 
He has detained them in the bar-room for a few 
moments.” 

In an incredibly short time the little com- 
pany stole unobserved down the back stairs, and 
succeeded in passing unmolested through the 
courtyard. Their beasts of burden they left be- 
hind them in the stable. 

“We must seek the woods for shelter,” said 
the guide. “ All inns and suspicious places will 
20 


3o6 


PRO CHRISTO. 


be searched thoroughly, and I think we shall be 
safer under the stars of heaven.” 

They rested during the day in a beautiful 
forest, and Madame Clement declared that she 
never slept on so soft a bed as the one which the 
thick, green moss afforded. 

They set out for Dieppe that night. Peter 
acted as a scout, and went ahead in advance 
of the party, to see that no danger was lurking 
in ambush. It was fortunate that he took this 
precaution, for at one of the halting-places he 
came running back breathless from his exer- 
tions, bringing the sickening news that a troop 
of dragoons was approaching. 

They quickly concealed themselves behind a 
thicket. In a moment after, a dozen or more 
horsemen galloped along the highway. No one 
dared draw a full breath until the sound of 
horses’ hoofs died away in the distance. 

“ The nearer the coast the greater the dan- 
ger,” said the guide. “ Nevertheless we will see 
you safely aboard the Dolphin.” 

They reached Dieppe in safety, and proceeded 
to the house of a new convert, where it was 
thought the chances of detection were less than 
at a public house. They were treated with great 
kindness and consideration. 

The Dolphin had not yet come into port. 
All waited anxiously for news of her, as Mon- 


THE FLIGHT. 


307 


sieur Clement was to be one of the passengers. 
On making inquiries, Monsieur Verne learned 
that the Dolphin had been delayed in leaving 
the Flemish border. 

They tell me that a dozen or more galley 
slaves have escaped from Dunkirk, and that 
this vessel will take them on board. If this is 
the case the Dolphin will not enter a French 
port. We shall have to send you out in a boat 
to meet them.” 

In a few days the Dolphin was sighted about 
two miles from Dieppe. 

“To-night we will go aboard,” said Peter. 
“ I have bribed a fisherman to take our party 
out to the vessel. If he lands us safely aboard 
the Dolphin he will receive another and much 
larger fee ; so I do not think he will betray us.” 

“What is the fisherman’s name?” asked 
Monsieur Verne. 

“ Michel Ayres.” 

“He may be all right, said the landlord, 
“but I always disliked the man. I never had 
any dealings with him, and perhaps I misjudge 
him. At any rate I sincerely hope he will play 
no trick in this case.” 

“He hath an honest face,” said the guide 
stoutly. “ And he swore by all the saints in the 
calendar that he would would deal squarely 
with us !” 


3o8 


PRO CHRISTO. 


“ I may be wrong in my judgment of the 
man,” returned the landlord. “As I said be- 
fore, I know nothing against him. It was a 
crafty look about the eye that hath always made 
me suspicious of double dealing. Pray forget 
what I have said, and say nothing before the 
ladies of my doubts.” 

In spite of his repeated assertions that he 
thought the fisherman all right, Peter Bonneau 
had misgivings. At last he donned a fisher- 
man’s suit, and thus disguised proceeded to the 
shore, in the vicinity of Michel Ayres’ cottage. 
As he strolled leisurely by the house, he saw 
the fisherman in close contact with one of the 
king’s officers. Snatches of the conversation 
reached him. 

“ Huguenots, do you think?” 

“ To-night . . . sailing vessel . . . Dolphin.” 

“ No more money than that? Will double it 
.... dragoons .... at midnight .... will be 
there !” 

Peter was a shrewd man, and from these 
fragmentary sentences he saw through the plot. 
The king’s officer had offered the fisherman 
double the money that he, Peter, had offered 
him, if he would betray the party of fugitives 
into their hands. There was no doubt but what 
Michel Ayres had agreed to do the dastardly 
act, for he shook the hand of the officer at part- 


THE FLIGHT. 309 

ing, and there was a look of unconcealed de- 
light on his face. 

Peter walked slowly along, hands in his 
pockets, whistling a lively tune. But no sooner 
was he out of sight of the fisherman’s cottage 
than he hurried home and related his adventure 
to Monsieur Verne. 

What shall I do ?” said the guide discon- 
solately. 

“ I have a plan,” replied Monsieur Verne. 
“ I wonder that I did not think to propose it at 
first. About a mile further down the coast is a 
poor fisherman, Jean Dumois by name. He is a 
half-witted fellow, and has been sadly abused by 
the young bloods of Dieppe. One day when 
several of these fellows were bothering him, I 
drove them away. Since that time he has con- 
ceived a strange fondness for me. He will let 
me take his boat if I ask him, and I will accom- 
pany you to his hut to-night. He believes in 
me, and my friends will be his friends.” 

“This is a capital plan,” said Peter with a re- 
lieved look. “ I begin to have hopes that we 
shall board the Dolphin to-night, in spite of 
Michel Ayres and the dragoons.” 

The landlord’s suggestion worked admirably. 
The poor half-witted fisherman was not only 
willing to loan his friend the boat, but he offered 
to row the party to the Dolphin. 


310 


PRO CHRISTO, 


The fugitives took leave of Monsieur Verne 
with prayers and thanks. He would take noth- 
ing for his hospitality. “ I am glad to do even 
a little to help those who have endured so much 
for Christ’s sake,” he said as they left him. 

The last stage in this perilous journey was 
soon accomplished in safety. As they reached the 
deck of the vessel, a tall figure stepped forward. 

With a cry, the pathos of which those who 
heard it never forgot, Armide Clement flew to 
meet the stranger, whose musical voice was 
heard by his kindred once more. 

“ Armide ! Armide !” 

“ Oh, my husband !” 

Again the pastor’s lips framed half uncon- 
sciously the endearing words of those sweet 
betrothal days: “All thine own on earth, be- 
loved, and in glory all thine own !” 

None but the eager eyes of love would have 
known in the white-haired, emaciated man, the 
Pastor Clement of other days. The cruel cau- 
tery of suffering had left ineffaceable traces on 
that noble physique, yet his eyes had the same 
kind expression, and the same sweet smile hov- 
ered about his lips. The captain, who was 
deeply moved at the sight of this reunion, of- 
fered the fugitives the use of his cabin, that 
they might be alone for a brief time and enjoy 
to the full this precious meeting. 


THE FLIGHT. 


311 

“ My little Constance, where is she ?” said the 
pastor, scanning the group around him. 

She laid down her sweet young life for 
Christ’s sake,” replied the mother, with fast 
falling tears. 

Paul repeated the simple story of unfalter- 
ing trust, to his father. 

‘ The Lord gave ; the Lord hath taken 
away. Blessed be the name of the Lord,’ ” said 
the pastor softly. Let us rejoice that one of 
our number is safe in the heavenly home.” 

They talked of old times and old acquain- 
tances until the creaking of the sails and the 
shouts of sailors warned them that the vessel 
was about to sail. 

“ Let us take our last look at our native land,” 
said Pastor Clement. 

They returned to the deck, and gazed wist- 
fully at the slowly receding shore. The dawn 
was just breaking, and a gray light was appear- 
ing in the east. The distant hills and moun- 
tain peaks were distinctly outlined against the 
sky. The joy which had filled their hearts 
at the sense of freedom from oppression gave 
place to a feeling of homesickness, as they re- 
alized that in all probability they were looking 
upon their native land for the last time. 

The pastor voiced the thought which was 
uppermost in the minds of all. 


312 


PRO CHRISTO. 


France has banished the pure light of the 
gospel from her kingdom. We shall find free 
altars in the land to which we are going, but the 
sting remains, that our efforts and our sufferings 
have failed to secure to our beloved land the 
priceless treasure of religious liberty.” 

No one spoke after this. The mother re- 
membered the neglected grave in the convent 
garden ; the soldier, his ancestral home in the 
hands of his enemies ; the preacher, the ruined 
temples where the gospel would never more be 
heard. But these remembrances were chast- 
ened and sweetened by thoughts of Christ the 
Lord, for whose sake they had been willing, 
like Paul of old, to “count all things but loss.” 


Weak and irresolute is man ; 

The purpose of to-day, 

Woven with pains into his plan, 
To-morrow rends away. 

Some foe to his upright intent 
Finds out his weaker part ; 

Virtue engages his assent, 

But pleasure wins his heart. 

Bound on a voyage of awful length 
And dangers little known, 

A stranger to superior strength, 

Man vainly trusts his own. 

But oars alone can ne’er prevail 
To reach the distant coast ; 

The breath of heaven must swell the sail 
Or all the toil is lost.” 


COWPER 





^1 II ^ Hiuti iivi'vipjupiu^np^iOTPfiPViviiipili 


IN THE LAND OF KING JAMES. 


315 


CHAPTER XXV. 

IN THE LAND OF KING JAMES. 

“ And thus the whirligig of Time brings in his revenges.” 

A YEAR had passed since the events recorded 
in the preceding chapter. 

One morning in the latter part of Septem 
her, a stranger who had just landed on the Eng- 
lish shore was walking down that picturesque 
street, in Portsmouth known as High Street. 
His attention was called to an elderly man with 
white hair, who was leading a little child by the 
hand. The black eyes and raven locks of the 
little girl reminded the stranger of Beatrice 
Harcourt. He paused to salute the elderly 
gentleman. Then he started back with an ex- 
clamation of joy. “Cecil Clement! do I see 
your face again ? And this must be my grand- 
daughter Rosalie. I thought I should find you 
after a time.'’ 

Pastor Clement shook the banker’s hand 
warmly. “ M. Romaine, I am rejoiced to see 
you. I trust you have come to join your for- 
tunes with ours. How glad Beatrice will be ! 
Let us hasten to her.” 

They walked about half a mile down the 
ancient street, and paused before a low, ram- 


3i6 


PRO CHRISTO. 


bling bouse. A woman’s voice, sweet as a bird’s, 
was singing an old hymn. They stopped to 
listen to the words which floated through the 
open window. 

“ Jesus, the very thought of Thee 
With sweetness fills the breast ; 

But sweeter far Thy face to see, 

And in Thy presence rest. 

“ Nor voice can sing, nor heart can frame, 

Nor can the memory find 
A sweeter sound than thy blest name, 

O Saviour of mankind.” 

The singer paused. Another voice took up 
the strain, and completed the old hymn of Ber- 
nard of Clairvaux. 

“Oh, hope of every contrite heart, 

Oh, joy of all the meek, 

To those who fall how kind thou art, 

How good to those who seek. 

“ But what to those who find I Ah this 
Nor tongue nor pen can show ! 

The love of Jesus, what it is. 

None but His loved ones know.” 

They opened the door, and crossed the thres- 
hold. They were in a pleasant room, which had 
a home look about it. A table stood in the cen- 
tre, on which was a snowy cloth, and a vase filled 
with fragrant clematis. A few water colors, re- 
presenting scenes in France, decorated the walls. 


IN THE LAND OF KING JAMES. 


317 


A cradle and a few chairs completed the furnish- 
ings of the room. 

The young mother was rocking the cradle 
in which lay a sleeping babe. Madame Clement, 
with a face of chastened pleasure, was knitting 
little socks. They both looked in amazement at 
this unceremonious arrival. 

“Oh, father, what a joyful surprise!” ex- 
claimed Beatrice, as she clung to the old man’s 
neck, and kissed him many times. 

“It is the case of the prodigal returning 
home, Armide,” said M. Romaine, as he grasped 
his sister’s hand and looked into her calm, stead- 
fast eyes. 

“ The Father’s house is always open, brother 
Francois.” 

“ And the Father’s arms are still outstretched 
to save and bless,” added Pastor Clement. 

M. Harcourt now entered the room, leaning 
heavily upon a crutch. He had contracted 
rheumatism during his long confinement in 
damp dungeons. He greeted the new comer 
with joy. 

“We have been afraid that you would never 
leave France, Pere Romaine.” 

“ I did not depart until I was compelled to 
do so,” replied the banker grimly. “ I went to 
Toulouse on business, and while there, word was 
sent me that if I valued my liberty and my life 


3i8 


PRO CHRISTO, 


I had better not return to Nismes, but make 
speedy tracks out of the kingdom. A letter de 
cachet had been filled out by the Intendant of 
Nismes, at the instigation of Father Ignatius, 
which would have placed me behind prison bars 
in twenty-fours hours, had I returned home. I 
completed my business at the bank, and repair- 
ing to the nearest inn changed clothes with my 
Swiss servant, and escaped to Geneva. From 
there I reached the coast and set sail for Eng- 
land. You cannot know how I abhor myself 
for my weakness in denying my Master. I 
deserve the lowest place in his kingdom.” 

“ Remember the kindness of our Lord to the 
repentant disciple,” said pastor Clement. “ He 
gave the heart-broken Peter a look which said 
‘ Return,’ not ‘ Depart’. Be not disheartened. 
The Master knows the weakness of the flesh, and 
the power of the tempter.” 

See your little grandson,” said Beatrice, 
calling her father’s attention to the sturdy babe 
who slept the profound sleep of infancy. “We 
have been waiting for you to come, in order to 
name him. I should like to call him Frangois.” 

“ Never,” said the banker with vehemence. 
“ Name not your son after such a weak, vacilla- 
ting specimen of manhood as I have proven my- 
self to be. Rather call your son after the best 
man who ever lived,” he added, laying his hand 


319 


IN THE LAND OF KING JAMES. 

affectionately on the pastor’s shoulder. In so 
doing you will please me best.” 

And I know,” said M. Harcourt, '' that could 
my father speak he would rather his grandson 
should bear the name of his honored friend Cecil 
Clement, than to take the family name.” 

Pastor Clement was speechless. Then he 
knelt down, and with profound emotion kissed 
the babe. “ May the Angel which redeemed me 
from all evil, bless the lad.” 

'' Have you brought any good news from 
France ?” inquired Madame Clement. 

None,” replied M. Romaine. Thousands 
have emigrated, and many more will do so if 
possible. Thousands have recanted. The king 
has been lauded for his signal act of piety, in 
revoking the Edict of Nantes, by all the literary 
men and women of his court. A medal has been 
struck off at Rome, by the order of the pope, to 
commemorate the event. It is in the form of a 
large medallion, on one side of which is the pic- 
ture of the grand monarch, and the inscription 
' Louis the Great, King of France and Navarre : 
Father of his Country : Restorer of Piety.’ On 
the reverse side of the medal is another picture : 
the king stands on the steps of the altar, and 
extends to France, represented as a kneeling 
suppliant, the sceptre of his mercy ; and under- 
neath are the words, ‘ The Roman Religion Re- 


320 


PRO CHRISTO. 


stored.’ Louis XIV. has been eulogized for an 
act that has not cost the selfish monarch ‘ an hour 
of self-denial, a moment of personal anxiety, or 
a drop of honest sweat.’ ” 

What has become of Aunt Narcisse, these 
troublous times?” inquired Beatrice. 

“ Your aunt, child, has received a just punish- 
ment. Under the guise of a lax Huguenot, she 
served the Roman-catholic church to the best of 
her ability. Many an unsuspicious Huguenot 
has she betrayed into the hands of the enemy. 
She was imprudent enough to make an attack 
upon the personal appearance of Madame de 
Maintenon. She said, ‘ When that prude and 
bigot, the widow Scarron, first appeared at court, 
her robe of serge, her plain linen, and her black 
lace, exhaled such an odor of pedantry, that her 
very appearance gave the king the vapors.’ The 
king’s favorite heard of this remark, and your 
aunt was summarily banished to a distant con- 
vent.” 

“And what know you of our good Abh€ 
F^nelon ?” said Pastor Clement. 

“ The noble Abbe is in disgrace,” replied the 
banker sadly. “ His sympathy and outspoken 
defence of the Huguenots irritated the king 
beyond measure. He removed the young Duke 
of Burgundy from his tutorship, and forbade the 
young man to hold any intercourse with his be- 


321 


IN THE LAND OF KING JAMES. 

loved teacher. There have also been rumors 
that F^nelon will soon be banished from the 
convent.” 

The Abb^ was a noble Christian man,” said 
Madame Clement. “ He deserved better at the 
hands of the king.” 

“ F^nelon was a devout Roman-catholic,” said 
Pastor Clement, “ but he sincerely loved and 
honored the same Lord Christ as we. His life is 
fragrant with the spirit of the Master. Some 
sweet day by-and-by he will see the truth with 
clearer eyes. ‘ Now we know in part, but then 
we shall know even as we are known.’ ” 

Toward night Dr. Clement and his wife re- 
turned from a trip to London. After mutual 
congratulations had been exchanged, they all 
gathered about a cheerful, open fire. 

“ It is a great comfort to us, father, to be 
able to worship God in safety,” said Beatrice. 
“ Our children will never know the trials through 
which we have passed.” 

I trust not, my child, ’ answered Pastor 
Clement. There was a note of anxiety in his 
voice, which caused his wife to look at him ear- 
nestly. As the harp responds to the soft breezes 
which steal over it, so Armide Clement was 
quick to detect the least change in the face and 
voice of the one she loved. 

Have you fears for the future, beloved ?” 

21 


322 


PRO CHRISTO. 


The pastor glanced at his son. 

Dr. Clement bowed his head. “ Your suspi- 
cions, father, are confirmed. The condition of 
Protestants in England is precarious. Our in- 
terests are no longer in safe hands. King James 
is an ardent catholic, as well as a despot. We 
know what that means. Although he has sol- 
emnly promised to protect the persons and pro- 
perties of his Protestant subjects, we cannot 
trust to his keeping those promises. We have 
found the word of a prince, even when bound by 
an oath, to be as unreliable as vapor. The king 
has already prohibited any preaching against 
Catholicism, and has appointed catholics to im- 
portant positions in both church and state.’' 

Will the English people submit tamely to 
such indignities ?” inquired M. Har court. “ They 
are not so thoroughly imbued with the principle 
of the divine right of kings as to endure oppres- 
sion.” 

“ In time,” continued the doctor, “ they may 
restrain the king, but meanwhile many will suf- 
fer persecution. I, for one, do not care to repeat 
such scenes as came to our beloved C^vennes. 
The die is cast ! We must seek a new home !” 


‘ Whichever way the wind doth blow, 

Some heart is glad to have it so ; 

Then blow it east or blow it west, 

The wind that blows, that wind is best. 

My little craft sails not alone ; 

A thousand fleets from every zone 
Are out upon a thousand seas ; 

And what for me were favoring breeze 
Might dash another with the shock 
Of doom upon some hidden rock. 

And so I do not dare to pray 
For winds to waft me on my way, 

But leave it to a higher Will 
To stay or speed me — trusting still 
That all is well, and sure that He 
Who launched my bark will sail with me 
Through storm and calm, and will not fail. 
Whatever breezes may prevail. 

To land me, every peril past. 

Within His sheltering heaven at last. 

‘ Then whatsoever wind doth blow. 

Some heart is glad to have it so ; 

And blow it east or blow it west. 

The wind that blows, that wind is best.’' 


« 


I 

I 

i 


I 


s 





OXFORD, MASSACHUSETTS. 


325 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

OXFORD, MASSACHUSETTS. 

“Where ?” echoed his listeners. 

“ My children,” replied Pastor Clement, 
“ God has sent us the answer to this question. 
While walking this morning I met one of our 
countrymen, Gabriel Bernow by name. He is 
trying to form a party of Huguenots to emigrate 
to America to settle on a grant of land called 
New Oxford, and located in Massachusetts. 
The climate, he says, will be especially attrac- 
tive to us Cevanols. It is clear, cool, and brac- 
ing, and without the fogs which we find so de- 
pressing in England. He says the soil is rich, 
and is capable of being brought to a high state 
of cultivation. A considerable number of refu- 
gees from La Rochelle have agreed to form the 
nucleus of the little colony. Among these are 
Jean Rohan and his family, together with the 
other artisans who occupied the cave in the C^- 
vennes. Shall we cast in our lot with theirs ?” 

There was a moment’s silence, and then 
Madame Clement said softly, “ If they persecute 
you in one city flee to another.” 

“ Let us go,” said Monsieur Harcourt. “ I 
believe this to be the pointing of God’s finger.” 


326 


PRO CHRISTO. 


“ Then we will call it settled,” said Dr. Clem- 
ent, and to-morrow we will once more make 
arrangements to depart.” 

A knock sounded on the door, and a stranger 
entered. He was tall and gaunt, but his face 
wore a benevolent expression. With a bow and 
smile he advanced and stood before Monsieur 
Harcourt. young sieur, I see that you 

have forgotten me !” 

With a joyful exclamation the young man 
rose and shook hands with the stranger. Turn- 
ing to the little company he said, This is the 
good minister. Monsieur Bondert, who first led 
me to the Lamb of God !” 

“ I bid you welcome to our humble hearth- 
stone,” said Pastor Clement, rising and giving 
his guest a seat of honor. 

“ Tell us about yourself,” said Monsieur Har- 
court. 

“You remember that I was sentenced to the 
galleys for life. Fortunately before reaching 
the coast I made my escape from the chain- 
gang. Since that time I remained in France, 
preaching in secret until I was compelled to 
fiee to * God’s Hostelry,’ as the hospitable city 
of Geneva is called. I have had a strong desire 
to see the new world, and hearing of a party 
from La Rochelle who are about to emigrate, I 
have decided to go with them. Monsieur Ber- 


OXFORD, MASSACHUSETTS. 


327 


non told me of your residence in Portsmouth, 
and I gladly sought you out.” 

“We have decided to join that party also,” 
remarked Pastor Clement. “ It will be a com- 
fort to have so many of our countrymen with us 
in that strange land.” 

After a fervent prayer by Monsieur Bondert, 
they separated for the night. 

The next few days were full of preparations 
for a speedy departure. Monsieur Romaine de- 
voted himself to his grand-children, who were 
to him a never-failing source of delight. Bea- 
trice surprised him one afternoon. His foot 
was gently rocking the cradle, little Rosalie was 
asleep in his arms, and in his hand was an open 
Bible. He seemed like one dreaming, for he 
kept repeating to himself : “ The cross of Christ ! 
Wondrous love ! Sins made white as snow !” 

With shining eyes his daughter silently left 
the room. The weak old man had at last 
anchored to the Rock of Ages. 

A few days later, at sunset, they all stood on 
the deck of a sailing vessel bound for America. 
There were upwards of one hundred Huguenots 
on board the ship. 

Pastor Clement addressed them as follows : 

“ Beloved fellow countrymen, nearly a cen- 
tury ago, that great father of the reformation, 
Martin Luther, gave this advice to the insurgent 


328 


PRO CHRISTO. 


peasants of Germany who had, like ourselves, 
been harassed by imprisonments, search war- 
rants, trivial prosecutions, and the cunning mal- 
ace of intolerance : ' The Gospel is not tied to 
one place, but moves freely through the world 
like the Star which beamed on the wizards as 
they journeyed from the east to the place where 
the Saviour lay. We have power to change our 
country, and elsewhere pursue truth. Do not 
dispute with the Sovereign for place, but emi- 
grate. You have the right to renounce all at- 
tachment to human authority, and reserve an 
entire and perpetual liberty of forming your 
principles and practices from the light of free 
inquiry.’ 

“This, my friends, is the warrant we hold 
for our action to-day. Like these German peas- 
ants, we desire to enjoy religious liberty, and to 
walk according to the faith and order of the 
Gospel, choosing a pure Christian worship, with 
a good conscience, in this remote wilderness, to 
the impositions of the hierarchy, to which we 
could not yield without an evil conscience. 

“ In this land toward which we have set our 
faces, another body of Christians has located. I 
refer to the Pilgrim Fathers. They came to 
the shores of America, not merely as refugees, 
but as missionaries. They came, not for gold, 
but, like ourselves, for conscience’ sake and their 


OXFORD, MASSACHUSETTS. 


329 


souls’ sake. We shall do well to emulate the 
example of these holy men. It has been truly 
said of them that, ‘ God sifted a whole nation 
that he might send the choicest grain into the 
wilderness.’ Their learning, their piety, and 
their gravity, struck all who knew them with 
admiration. They were ‘Timothies in their 
houses, Chrysostoms in their pulpits, and Au- 
gustines in their disputations.’ 

“ Let us, like them, found a colony which shall 
inspire with respect even the nuncio of Rome. 
We have an important part to play in the great 
drama of humanity. The future condition for 
weal or woe, of this great Western world, we 
may help to determine. First impressions, 
whether upon a child or a commonwealth, are 
well nigh ineffaceable. The philosopher re- 
peated a trite but true proverb when he said : 
‘ It is easier to form than to reform ; easier to 
mould moulten iron, than to file cold steel.’ 

“ Knowing the greatness of our opportunity 
let us improve it. Let the watchword of our 
blessed martyrs be ours : ‘ For Christ sake !’ 
It is the old Christian watchword unchanged, 
since the days of Stephen and Paul and Poly- 
carp. Let us hold it as our precious possession. 

“ Let nothing divert us from the paths of truth 
and peace, which are the ways of God; and 
then we may be sure that he will be with us. 


PRO CHRISTO, 


330 

as he was with our fathers. Whatever others 
may say or do, it is surely well with the right- 
eous. When all the empires of this world have 
passed away, ‘like the baseless fabric of a vis- 
ion,’ ^the righteous shall enter the kingdon of 
their Father and in the enjoyment of perfect 
peace, liberty and love shall shine forth as the 
sun for ever and ever.’ ” 


** I HEAR the tread of pioneers 
Of nations yet to be, 

The first low wash of waves, where 
Shall roll a human sea. 

“The rudiments of empires here 
Are plastic yet, and warm ; 

The chaos of a mighty world 
Is rounding into form. 



CONCLUSION. 


And nobly did they live up to their prin- 
ciples. The Huguenots settled in Florida, New 
York, Rhode Island, Virginia and the Caroli- 
nas; and everywhere they aided materially in 
laying the foundations of our noblest institu- 
tions. We are told that in proportion to their 
numbers they contributed a vast share to the 
culture and prosperity of the United States. 

Thirty families of Huguenots founded the 
little town of Oxford, Mass., twelve miles from 
the heart of the commonwealth. 

To-day we can see the ruins of their fort, 
the hollow where once stood their church, and a 
portion of the dam beside the mill. In 1884 a 
society was formed for the purpose of perpetua- 
ting the memory of the Huguenots, and several 
acres of land with the ruins of the fort are held 
in perpetuity. The same year a granite cross 
on a pedestal was erected in memory of the 
Huguenots, and was unveiled with appropriate 
ceremonies. 

“ The savage arrow scattered them ; dark clouds 
Involved their infant Zion, yet they bore 
Toil and affliction with unwavering eye, 

Fixed on the heavens, and firm in hope sublime 
Sank to their last repose. Full many a son 
Among the noblest of our land looks back 
Through time’s long vista, and exulting claims 
These as his sires.” 


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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS. 


The author is indebted lo the following 
sources for information. 

“ The Huguenots and the Revocation of the 
Edict of Nantes.” By Prof. Henry M. Baird, 
D. D. 

Guizot’s “ History of France.” 

“ Louis XIV. and the Court of France.” By 
Miss Pardoe. 

“ History of the Reformation.” By Merle 
D’Aubign^, D. D. 

“ History of Christianity. By J. S. C. Abbott. 
‘‘The Huguenots in the Nipmuck County.” 
By Daniels. 

“ Jean Marteilhe, the Huguenot Galley Slave.” 
Translated by Oliver Goldsmith. 

“ The Escapes of Latude and Casanova from 
Prison.” By Villars. 




























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